#divorce averted

[wereh0gz]

Wonder what the people who complained about Tangle being ooc or insensitive for suggesting Diamond Cutters as a team name will think about the new issue

[skyburger]

very funny to me that kaz is the one to say "they played us like a damn fiddle" considering the plot of every metal gear game is the protagonist getting played like a damn fiddle way more than little old kaz EVER did

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)

i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*

Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:

Everything everywhere is queer all at once

Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other

The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.

Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.

God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.

There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me

They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.

Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.

The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.

Terry Pratchett is not fictional.

He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.

They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.

At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.

Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.

During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.

Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.

It's all very queer, just like the fandom.

Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.

They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.

Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.

Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'

It's all ineffably queer my good fellows

Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.

There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.

The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.

There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.

There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.

Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.

The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.

Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.

Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.

Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.

Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Work Divorce

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader angst/fluff

Summary: Aaron and you come to a realization when you get into a fight about a case.

Warnings: Cannon typical descriptions of violence, alcohol, mentions of divorce, aaron being cuddly, no use of Y/N

Notes: I thought of this (and wrote it) at the airport so sorry for mistakes! Read more of my hotch stuff here and the angsty interlude to this here Gif isn't mine

“Absolutely not. You are not going out there.” Hotch’s mouth was a straight line, and his features read anger to anyone but you. It was his eyes that gave him away. Pure panic and fear.

“Hotch, I built a rapport with him over the phone. I can-“ You tried.

“That’s final.” The whole room was tense, the police officers who didn’t understand the implications and your team, who felt like they were watching their parents get into an argument.

“You have to let me do my job.” It hung in the air, and Hotch didn’t respond.

The tension followed the team onto the plane. The case had ended badly. Yes, the team had managed to rescue four of the five hostages, but not all of them and the unsub was dead. And it had become abundantly clear that Hotch had made the wrong choice. You could have saved them all.

You were kneeling on the dirt floor of the cave the unsub had dug, holding cloth to a bleeding hostage. The other four had been able to walk out on their own and you were waiting with her for the paramedics who had to make their way through the forest. She was crying, tears leaking down the sides of face and dragging clean lines in the dirt and blood that had been caked there.

“He wanted to talk to you. I could hear your voice. I cou-“ she hiccuped, “Why didn’t you come?”

Your lip trembled and you swallowed trying not to think of the memory as you curled yourself into a seat beside Derek, using him as a barrier against Aaron. He had sat down in his usual seat, the one beside it occupied by JJ who usually sat where you were now.

“You did what you could, kid,” Dave said, patting your shoulder on his way past you.

You tried to sleep on the flight, closing your eyes and staring at the back of your eyelids. You had no idea how much time had passed since the plane took off, but you heard an exchange beside you and Derek moved, replaced with the familiar warmth you knew as your husband.

“I-“

“I don’t want to talk right now,” you responded, eyes still closed. The scene of her body being carried out of the hole, limp hand sliding out of yours, was replaying on a loop. Aaron’s hand rested lightly on your calf where you’d pulled it up to make yourself smaller. It was his form of an ‘I’m sorry’.

-/-/-/-/-

Derek and Emily were whispering over the dividers between their desks when Spencer got in. He tossed his satchel in its usual spot and leaned over.

“What’s going on?”

“Their stuff is gone from their desk. Hotch got here alone,” Emily hissed, nodding to where you usually sat. All of your trinkets, colorful pens, and most importantly your wedding photo were gone. It had been a week since the last case, and the last time the team had seen the two of you together was the day after you got off the jet. You had gone into Hotch’s office, door closed, and from the expressions visible through the noise proof window, it looked like you were yelling at him.

You had left, stormed off was more like it, and not been back over the week. And now this on a monday morning. Hotch was visible through the window, frown prominent as he read over a case file. All three younger agents averted their eyes when he looked out, but Spencer managed to scan over the expression when Hotch looked at your empty desk. Melancholy was the best way he could name it.

-/-/-/-/-

Another week and another case passed without a single mention of you. Hotch had never been one to wear a wedding ring, not after his first divorce, so there was no indication there. Still Hotch’s expression flickered to sad when he looked anywhere you usually were, beside him on the jet, in the bullpen, at the round table, and even in moments when the team was used to your quips against him.

“Whatcha got, babygirl?”

“Is everyone there?” Garcia asked, uncharacteristic of her. All ears turned in that direction.

“Everyone but Hotch and Rossi.”

“Good. They are still married! Legally at least. Hotch put in the transfer papers two days after the fight for them to move to the counterterrorism team.”

“Three whole floors?” JJ joked.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Jennifer!” Penelope’s voice shrilled, “This could be serious! The fight was real!”

“Baby girl, let’s not get all sorts of spin up.”

“They drive to work separately!” Reid cut in. All eyes turned to him.

“What?”

“Wednesday and Thursday I saw both their cars in the garage on my way in.”

“And you kept it to yourself?” Emily complained. The door to the conference room, turned BAU office opened admitting the other two members of the team.

“Thanks for the heads up, baby girl. We gotta go.” Morgan ended the call before she could give them away.

“What was that about?” Rossi asked, taking one of the seats.

“Just warning us about weather patterns,” Emily said at the same time as Morgan said, “She was telling us about another case to keep an eye on.” The two agents glared at one another.

“Smooth,” Rossi joked, “Can we get back to work now?“

-/-/-/-/-

The case didn’t end up being too horrible or difficult. They made it out without another killing and the unsub was caught without a firefight.

Emily picked up her phone, the ringtone distinctly Garcia.

“Hey, we’re almost-“

“Stall! I don’t want to see them fight!” Emily’s eyebrows knit and she frowned. JJ gave her a questioning look.

“Who?”

“The Hotchners! Just stall!” The call ended. Emily looked at the team, who were slowly getting out of the SUV, a few protesting groans since they all had to run through the streets of Cincinnati a little bit longer than they would have preferred. She huffed to herself and quickly unclipped an earring, dropping it between the seats.

“Shit!” The whole team turned to look.

“I dropped my earring.” Hotch looked exasperated, but he turned the car back on so they could turn the lights on and climbed in the back with Emily to hunt it down.

Upstairs the other SUV of the team was standing in the hallway talking to you.

"How was the case?" You were carrying a few things from Hotch's office, the blanket from the back of the couch and one of the photos of you and Jack that sat on his desk. Spencer was documenting the items in your hands and cataloguing them, JJ could tell based on how is eyes scanned over the items twice.

"Not bad. We were just talking about celebrating." You gave a tight smile and your eyes flickered to the elevator coming up from the garage.

"I'll talk to Hotch. I gotta go." You rushed for the stairs, the door closing just before the elevator doors opened to reveal the rest of the team.

"They seem like sturdy earrings," Morgan sighed, "but whatever." JJ and Spencer were staring at Hotch openly before Emily coughed.

"What?" Hotch asked, looking down at his suit.

"Nothing. We were just talking about celebrating today. We haven't all hung out for a while. Rossi, can you host?" The older agent rolled his eyes.

"You know you could at least ask me before asking in front of the whole team," he griped, "But yes. I can host. Make yourselves scarce. Drink some water. See you at seven." The agents scattered to their desks, but once Hotch and Rossi were in their offices, they stood with their heads together, occasionally glancing up at Hotch's office to see if he noticed the missing items.

Aaron walked into his office and immediately noticed the lack of blanket on the couch. Additionally a spot in the dust on his shelf and an absent little plastic dinosaur that sat next to the Captain America figurine on his desk gave away your recent presence. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the rest of the room before deciding everything else was in place. With a sigh, Aaron tossed his go bag by the door and removed some files from his briefcase before picking both bags up and heading for the door.

The agents in the bullpen were whispering and Aaron rolled his eyes at them. They were terrible profilers sometimes.

"See you soon," he called, hiding his smile when they all jumped apart.

"It must have been so bad! For them to be avoiding each other! And stealing stuff out of Hotch's office? That's crazy!" Emily hissed.

"We'll find out tonight." They knew you would never miss an evening at Rossi's. You two were always there first and left later than everyone else.

The younger agents nodded in agreement and dispersed, a continuous drone of concerned texts in their chat as they got dressed for the evening and stopped for snacks, wine, and beer.

Spencer, who was chronically punctual arrived first, the driveway conspicuously empty. He jabbed a message into the chat 'no one's here yet'. The responses of shock were followed by 'go inside and ask dave about it!' from Emily.

The front door was always unlocked when he knew they were over, given Dave's chronic laziness and the access to a firearm in basically every room in his massive house.

"Rossi! It's Spencer, don't kill me."

"We're in the kitchen," came Hotch's voice. Spencer peaked in and failed to hide his shock. You were sitting across Aaron's lap, red in the cheeks from alcohol. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you were in a full body laugh. Aaron was laughing too, his headshaking, eyerolling one when you said something particularly silly. Dave was leaning on the other side of the counter, the grin on his face prominent.

"I can't believe you would betray me like that," Aaron chuckled, "It's my stuff."

"Nuh uh! We're married! It's my stuff too." Aaron's arms squeezed tighter around your middle, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile when he kissed you again and you felt like a teenager blushing. Dave pointed past you to the doorway.

"Don't you dare start texting, boy genius. Let the kids find out on their own." You and Aaron both turned to see Spencer put his hands up, phone slipped back into his sweater pocket.

"Take a seat, Doctor Reid. Have a drink," you joked. Dave poured him a glass of wine.

"So you just switched teams?" You looked at Aaron, who shrugged a little bit. No use lying.

"Kind of. We both realized there was no world in which Aaron could be impartial, no matter how hard either of us tried. And I got promoted." Watching Spencer's gears turn was always fun. You could almost see the puzzle pieces fall into place as they did in a split second.

"You're the new supervisor in the CT unit! That's why you stole your stuff from his office. They were for yours." You nodded.

"Precisely. And it's not stealing! It's mine!"

"It is absolutely stealing, you're a menace."

"Your menace," you corrected, booping him on the nose before reaching for your wine.

"We're here!" Penelope's voice echoed through the house, followed by the cacophony of Emily and Derek arguing. It was about you.

"Just come in here!" You complained. There was a thunder of footsteps running through the front hallway and the three other agents cartoonishly paused in the doorway staring.

"You know people are allowed to get new jobs right?" Aaron asked. He wasn't usually the joker in the group, but sometimes with just the right amount of alcohol his dry humor took over.

"Thank god! I thought I was going to have to start planning two parties!" Penelope gushed, running over to hug you. You laughed, sliding out of Aaron's lap. He was reluctant to let you go. He had been every time you were together, now that you didn't see each other constantly he missed you being beside him.

"Anyway, if we ever separated I would get the team," you stage whispered. Aaron pinched your thigh.

"Absolutely no you wouldn't."

"We will have to write up a contract for your work divorce," Spencer laughed.

"That's not fair! He used to be a lawyer," you whined. Aaron pulled you back into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder where you stood in front of his stool.

"187 over here can help you." You bickered and laughed and explained yourself to the team once JJ and Will arrived.

"I can't believe you thought we broke up," you sighed once dinner was over and all of you had settled in the backyard under the summer stars.

"I can't either," Dave laughed, "They have no idea how much more of a mess you two would be."

"Hey!" Both of you interjected. The team laughed as you both looked at each other. Aaron pulled you ever closer, nuzzling his nose to your cheek. He was properly drunk now, which is why you both decided ubering over was a better idea so you didn't have to worry about a car.

"He's right," he muttered, his letters slurring together. You chuckled, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and squishing him to your chest.

"I know. I would be too."

[wandasfavv]

Keep It Steady

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Meeting an older woman through a dating app wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, especially one that’s newly divorced and experimenting.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Inexperienced!WandaxFem!Reader, fingering(r receiving), oral(r receiving), fingers in mouth, overstimulation, soft sex that turns rough, Servicetop!Wanda, fluff and angst, matched each others freak tbh

Sunlight shone through the thick glass of the car with the two of you inside, hitting your back as it accompanied the warm sensation within your body. Heat escaped your lips and into the other woman’s mouth, a constant motion for trying to find air between the deep exchange in which led to the sound of a device loudly announcing itself in the front pocket of Wanda’s pants. As you were positioned on top of her, straddling her lap, you felt the buzz beneath you.

She pulled away from you with a huff, evidently flushed whilst she looked down to the direction of her phone, waiting for you to lift yourself up so she could pull it out. Your eyes wandered down as well to the screen, wondering what it was to have disturbed the session. While she checked the notification she received, her fingers lightly and comfortingly traced your skin by the free hand pressed against the side of your thigh.

Another sigh left Wanda before she looked back up at you. The clatter of her phone being gently tossed inside the cup holder disrupted the quiet space. “Sorry, it’s the kids.”

“It’s fine,” you replied almost aloof, a faint frown present. Getting tugged toward the other seat of the car by the disappointed force of your body, she looked over to you with an unreadable expression. “It’s not like we don’t do this all the time.”

There was a certain underlying bitterness to your tone, yet it went unnoticed with Wanda’s oblivious front. She hummed a response, averting her gaze from you as her rosy cheeks eased up after the practical make out. You took the wheel of the vehicle and started the engine before backing out of the secluded area in which became a routine.

The drive was overall peaceful— or so one would think from the point of view of anyone besides you two. The silence besides the noises of the pebbly road and the blasting AC was dreadful as it led you deeper into your thoughts. Thoughts of this relationship if you could even call it that.

For the past month, you and Wanda had been nothing more than what felt like two friends who happen to dabble in kissing. It was ridiculous, but how could you have any say if you weren’t outright protesting against it.

Ever since you met her outside of the app you first saw her from, you knew what you were getting into. The words of her interests and what she looked for in her bio below the picture that caught your attention more than anybody else haunted you throughout. To not have anything serious. It constantly made your stomach churn as the reminder was only forcing you to either leave or stay put in this hooked position. Wanda’s charming yet confusing character brought you to the latter.

From when you saw her through just a blinding square in the darkness of your room, she sparked something in you. The way you trailed and raked over every feature that was shown in millions of pixels, from her prominent smile lines to her perfectly refined clothing. Everything about her made you swipe right, overriding the contrasting wants between the two of you.

Yet there you were, stuck in a repeated process of being nothing more or less than whatever this was. It made your head spin how she’d at times be obviously tempted in doing more with you, but stop herself. You’ve noticed it countless of times. The acts of service in which had bundles of flowers in your hands to sudden cold turns that leave you on read. Or the way she would often fumble around with the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants only to pull away and keep up at the same pace of only locking lips. She led you nowhere but a pitiful hole that left you trapped.

As you began to drive past the many houses you became familiar with down the street, your eyes spotted a foreign car parked in the driveway of Wanda’s home. Behind the tinted windows, you saw a man sitting in front while two smaller heads peeked up from behind him in the back. You parked on the side of the sidewalk, turning to Wanda who had a subtle smile on hers.

“So I’ll see you… Saturday?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you,” you responded in more a friendly but forced voice, a small smile played as you waited for her to exit the car. But surprisingly, she leaned forward and placed a short yet lasting kiss on your lips, the softness of hers making you flush. It felt sweeter than most, meaningful even. As she pulled away and swiftly turned to open the door and leave, you almost missed the matching flustered expression. Again, you were met with another puzzling action that made you internally groan.

Watching her round the corner of your car and walking to the other, the door opened with two boys the same age jumping out. Smiles on both of them as they ran over to their mom was a warming sight, along with seeing the white between her lips as she grinned brightly looking down to them hugging either side of her body.

Wanda waved a slight bye to the man as you educatedly guessed it was her ex husband dropping off the kids for their few days with her. She had told you about the shared custody, something you knew that partially bothered her as conversations upon that topic resulted in noticeable downturns of her mouth.

A tired exhale came out before you turned away and started to drive again, not wanting to deal with the emotions spinning.

——————

Few days passed by since you last saw Wanda. You two only messaged each other at random times, like now when you were headed to bed. Already lying down and under the blankets, your eyes closed for the night until a disturbance occurred.

You stirred, feeling the buzz beside your head as you laid on the sunken pillow. Lazily reaching a hand up to take hold of your phone, it lit up in your squinted eyes, revealing a message that made your heart stutter with a following swallow of nerves.

“I want to see you.”

Your thumbs twiddled above the keyboard, not knowing how or what to respond with considering how it was still before the day you two planned to meet up. But you soon typed a reply back, wanting to seem casual about it. “Right now?”

Her reply came in an instant, a certain eagerness radiating off a single word. “Please?”

Your legs moved without a thought and dragged yourself out of bed. You were focused on the request, not bothering to care about the doubts about Wanda. But then again, you were also completely unaware of the state that she was in.

On the other end of the phone, she bit her tongue. A message sent out of pure desire and impulse. In honesty, she had no idea of what she was doing with you. These common meet ups and ‘dates’ came out as a way for her to release some sort of pent up tension.

It was her first time being with someone who wasn’t her ex, the man she’d often grimace at the thought of as she began to revel in ones of you instead, and since the day she found you on a simple free app which piqued her interest. She knew most wouldn’t have been fond with the idea of doing what she had in mind, yet she lucked out as an attractive individual like you willingly followed along.

It all started off very slow, subtle gestures and small compliments that could’ve been perceived as platonic. Or atleast until a random night where she ended a simple day with a sudden first move, kissing you with a particular urgency. And then only that continued for the next counting weeks.

She was just so comfortable in where you both were, able to do things at the steady pace she wanted while you stayed compliant. Yet, now she couldn’t have helped but felt that there was maybe more that she wanted in spite of the fear and nerves of doing something she wasn’t familiar with.

The sound of the doorbell disturbed her thinking. Her body moved at a quick pace to the front door revealing the face she grew to yearn seeing everyday.

You walked in hesitantly as you watched her eyes lit up, a small exchange of greetings between you. Her hand came to the small of your back to gesture you in her home which was welcoming with ambiance. Looking around, you saw littered and deserted toys in the living room, a long train along with futuristic and faux weapons you’d see in movies. “They went back with him already?”

“Yeah, I know. So soon,” she replied sighing, closing and locking the door before facing you. “They’ll be back soon enough though.”

Wanda walked towards you, taking your hand gently as she led you upstairs. You followed with no complaint, sensing what it was that she wanted. The usual.

Stepping into her room and trailing behind, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Everything that you had thought about over the past week stirred up inside your head, and while she closed the door behind you, her eyes roamed your body without a clue. You sat on her bed, hands clinging onto the covers hanging off. The soft click of the door was heard. And then the unexpected blurt of your nervous voice.

“Wanda?” You called out to her without thinking as she turned her head around to look at you curiously with a small hum in return. “Could we talk about us?”

Her face dropped from your question, matching the feeling of her heart as she fully untwisted her body to properly talk to you. She muttered an answer. “Yeah, what about?”

You shifted nervously on the edge of her bed, your eyes flickering between her and floor as you spoke at a low level. “I just feel like this isn’t for me.”

“W-What do you mean? Everything’s been going so well between us,” Wanda responded, her voice laced with worry and disbelief.

“Wanda, it’s been over a month of… I don’t even know what. You’ve been giving me mixed signals. And honestly, I’m not sure why I willingly agreed to do this- thing like I’m some experiment,” you retorted with an undertone of sadness along side the confusion you’ve brought to the top.

“You’re not- trust me,” she tried to keep the wavering in her voice at bay until it lowered to same wavelength of regret. “You know I’m new to this…” Her brows pulled together while she took steps towards you, her feet reaching the bed and side beside you. The mattress sunk under her weight to your right. “I-I was just worried about what you’d think if I didn’t meet your expectations, and I knew you liked doing what we did so I figured I’d get enough out of that while also maybe keeping you interested-”

You heard her rant helplessly, the nonstop shaking of her leg then concerning you. She caught the way your eyes softened, and stopped herself from furthering her disquieting explanation. Her lip quivered as she let only a few more words sum it up. “I’m serious about you, I promise.”

The beating of your heart was loud against your chest, and you kept quiet letting her words sink in. All the doubts and nights you spent overthinking disappeared in your mind at the reassurance. You looked at her, your eyes wide with yearning as she gently trailed her fingertips along your jaw after her hand came up. Your skin heated up under her touch, only prompting her to then let her smoothly tilt your head further up.

Wanda took in the expression on you, how she sensed the feeling of security as you only gazed at her with want but not making any move to make her uncomfortable. So she took the chance to initialize it instead, now knowing that she no longer wanted to keep it steady. Leaning down, she pressed her plump lips against yours and kept her hand at your cheek as her other one crept up to caress the other side.

In response, you let out sigh through your parted mouth before you felt her tongue slowly probe and enter it. A noise of both surprise and desperation left you at her sudden movements, causing her to lightly groan and press against your warm body. She moved her hands to run down your shoulders to your waist, softly but firmly holding you there. And with moments of her kissing you breathlessly, she pushed you down against the mattress as her lips chased after yours in a longing manner.

“I want you,” she whispered after parting for only a second until she came back down a lot more eagerly. You reach up for her with your hands running through her soft untangled hair as another small moan left you. Wanda continued to intertwine her tongue with yours which only let her take control and you followed her lead. Lasting for only a minute or so, she teared herself away from you, staring down at your frazzled state. Heavy breaths huffed out from both of you, hers a lot more erratic.

Soon enough you felt her tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to pull it off of yourself. In a swift motion, you did while she then took the time to take your other article of clothing off from below and leaving you in just your underwear.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to see you like this…” Wanda’s voice came out muttered and deep, like she was really lost in your presence. She gradually crawled on top of you, her knee between your thighs as it pressed against your clothed center. You gasped at the sudden friction, already feeling as if you soaked through and made evidence of your wetness on her pants. As Wanda kneeled for a second, she took off her shirt and tossed it to the same direction of your clothes. She came and lowered back down to make contact with your lips again, her arms supporting her at the sides of your head.

You ushered a response to her, breathing heavily once you were able to part from the heated interaction. “Longer than me?”

“Probably,” she cracked a smile at your reply, your soft tone sounding sweeter than ever through her ears. “I just didn’t know it yet.”

With her hand coming down between your legs, she pulled her knee away and looked down to see the damp fabric. Her fingers grazed the darker spot of your panties, applying a light pressure to feel you more. You let out a moan in return, the sensation only heightening as she started to kiss and suck at the pulse of your neck.

The teasing lasted shortly before you felt her pull the cotton to the side to access your pussy. Two fingers pushed between your folds, a slight intake of air heard from Wanda due to your arousal leaking on her. You basked in the feeling of her gently rubbing against your sensitive areas before probing your entrance which welcomed her greatly.

She let one finger slip in, your walls already clenching around it. You bit your lip after the long anticipation, muffling another sound of pleasure as she continued to go in and out at a slow pace before stretching you out with another finger. She watched you from above to check for any signs of discomfort. “Does this feel okay?”

Her sweet and soft tone made you pay more attention to her expression, noting the furrow of her eyebrows. You were reminded of her inexperience as she showed concern over what she was doing. The careful movements inside your walls took some time to turn into light curling against that one spongey spot. “Mhm… you’re doing really good.” Your muttered and hushed words caused a sudden spur in Wanda. The praise fueled her to go deeper, hitting another point that drove you further in heat.

More wetness pooled beneath you and on her hand, making the sounds from below anything but innocent. Her lips returned to your neck, peppering lower to your collarbone and nibbling against the soft skin. You jerked up to meet her hand to find more friction which led to her thumb to then go upward to your clit, smoothly bringing you closer to the built up tension within your lower tummy. She didn’t stop her ministrations at all, ignoring the growing soreness of the muscles as the tip of her tongue ran over the dark marks she created.

The rise of volume and the desperate grip you had on Wanda had her in a daze as she found it all so addicting. It made her question why she didn’t give in sooner.

“W-Wanda, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, throwing your head back as she pumped into you harder. Tears welled up at the pressure, climbing up to the feeling of ecstasy. And the hum of her deep voice brought you over the edge.

“Uh huh, cum for me,” her breath fanned your flesh before her teeth dug into it, another mark made that well represented her possession over you.

At her soft demand, you squeezed around her fingers which forced their way to keep curling at your g-spot. Mixed moans left both of you, and filled up the room until she slowly came to stop, letting you ride out your orgasm before her fingers stilled.

As the tense feeling began to wash away, you were met with light kisses pattered around the side of your neck, trailing slowly up your jaw. You smiled faintly as Wanda’s lips separated from your skin to instead look down at your hazed expression. Again, her smile lines deepened as she couldn’t help but show more satisfaction of what she made you do. Carefully, her fingers left your drenched hole, causing you to also inwardly pout in disappointment at the emptiness following.

Wanda’s hand came from between your legs and you stared at it with earnest, noticing how a slick layer covered mainly two of her long thin fingers. Without thinking, your own hand came to gradually capture her wrist, making her caught off guard before your weak hold left her content. She gazed down at you curiously and watched with intent at how you sluggishly dragged it to your face. Eyes widening just enough for you spot it, Wanda clenched her teeth as she swallowed down a breath seeing you open your mouth and envelope her digits.

You continued to look up at her with doe-like eyes, desperation filling them and only making the warm sensation in her stomach on the verge of bursting. The feeling of your tongue moving against her and the tip running through crevices combined with the tear stains shimmering from the soft hue of light beginning to dry up pushed her in a state she didn’t recognize. Like an unknown switch was turned on in the back her mind.

Through your blurry vision, you saw the way her green orbs shifted side to side in a shaky but subtle manner, likely studying every feature on your face which kindled her further. With her still in your mouth, you sucked lightly, taking off and tasting all of your arousal. Once you were done, the grip on her wrist tightened loosely to pull her fingers back out, a line of spit connecting you both as the two of you witness each other’s reactions to everything.

Wanda let out an unstable breath. Her bottom lip shook lightly before being trapped between her teeth. Letting the silence sink in for only a few more moments, her muttering voice broke the building suspense. “God, you’re so pretty… I can’t fucking take it.”

With your lips still parted, she leans back in to eagerly capture them, her tongue immediately darting in to taste your arousal. Her hand came up to firmly yet gently hold your face in place by your jaw. Smalls gasps left the two of you and into each other’s mouths, leaving hardly any room to breathe. You could tell how much more she wanted this by the way she hungrily roamed the open spaces inside.

Laying weak underneath Wanda’s body, you felt her lift herself up steadily as she lightly grazed your bottom lip with her front teeth before separating. While you were still in a daze, she let go of you momentarily to lower herself. Her knee between your legs moved down as she placed and trailed light kisses from your neck to all the way to your tummy. “So perfect, baby.”

You felt your spine shudder from her hushed words, feeling the heat radiating off of her as she continued teasing you down to your inner thighs. Smaller bites led to her canines being sunk into your soft flesh as she marveled at the way you let out quiet but effective sounds and held onto the pillow you laid on. Spit followed from her lazily dragging her tongue dangerously close to your cunt, causing a subtle huff leaving you from the rising frustration of not getting straight to the point. The corners of Wanda’s lips tugged upward smugly at your growing desperation. She pulled just millimeters away for a moment and looked up at you, observing the slight frown on you from the loss of contact.

“Wanda, please,” your tone comes out as whiney, tempted to just grab onto her soft locks to pull her into the source of slickness she caused. “Please, I need you so bad.”

Her eyes noticeably darkened as she glared at the pleading expression, taking in the way your brows were creased together along with the lower lip just slightly sticking out. But your voice just pulled everything together.

Her hands pulled down your panties completely and threw them down to the floor. Opening her mouth again and not wasting anymore time, Wanda’s tongue was quickly coated with the taste of you again. A soft moan escaped her because of it as her arms came up to wrap around your thighs securely. Her tongue ran up and between your folds, each stride becoming more tantalizing. She barely reached your sensitive bud, and you only responded with another needy sound.

“Shh, just let me make you feel good,” Wanda shushed you, keeping her pace slow as she relished the taste. After a few more strokes up your folds, she made contact with your clit and lapped in an unhurried and deliberate manner. You gasped in response as the feeling pushed you further back into a heightening pressure within your lower body. She continued the ministrations, quickly pulling you close into another orgasm as she switched lightly sucking and licking your bundle of nerves to plunging back into your dripping hole.

Wanda feels you tightening around her tongue as she delved deeper into you, reaching spots that made you writhe beneath her. “Mhm, are you close again baby?”

You hear her soft voice alongside feeling the hum against your pussy. Pathetically, you nod with vigor and tug at her hair in your grip, feeling the impending climax the more she continued her movements. Despite her lack of experience and without your guidance, she was unexpectedly able to hit all your favorite spots.

“Beg for it.”

Her words came out more firm, prompting another twitch from your clit in her mouth. “P-Please, Wanda please. I wanna cum on your tongue.”

She smirked inwardly at the desperation reeking from you and worked on helping you to fall off the edge a second time. By the quickened pace and the ability to meet her lips by moving your hips with abandon, it wasn’t long until the pressure was released and left your body shuddering. The sounds that came out of you were loud and pleasant to Wanda’s ears. She lapped at you at a slower pace to drag out your pleasure, feeling the constant push as you kept grinding against her stained mouth.

Brought back to reality as you came down, the feeling of Wanda’s tongue was still relentless. She didn’t pull away at all but rather began to pace herself back to the previous speed. You whimpered noisily, trying to move away from her tongue attacking your extremely sensitive nub again. Yet, you were met with an aggressive tug as she tightened her hold around thighs and had your lower half hit the bed again. “Mm-mm, stay still for me.”

You felt yourself throb again at the sternness of her tone despite the growing and almost overwhelming overstimulation. Yet, it wasn’t like it mattered since her hold on you was anything but easy to get out of. You were only able to cry out as your weak arms pushed at her head to no avail. “Wanda, fuck- I can’t…”

She didn’t once falter under your straining whine to have her stop, triggering another upcoming sensation. Your futile attempt soon turned into a performance of need, your back arching from the heat of the sheets under you while her hands pinned your hips down, and the dull nails clung onto you. Moans spilling got increasingly louder from both of you, and for Wanda mostly from the little pain she received by your continuous pulling at her bunched up strands in your grasp.

She sensed how close you were again by the way you sounded and the way your body reacted. All of it becoming more recognizable under her touch. Your swollen clit was between her lips while her hand crept back between your closing thighs around her head, pushing her fingers into your pussy again. And rather starting off slow inside of you, she kept up a speed and force that matched her suckling, bringing you to a third high that left you shaking and moaning pitiably.

Wanda licked your cunt slowly as she pulled out again, her face willingly trapped because of you squeezing around her without control. She eased up on you, her hold less tight though leaving evidence of her nails that dug into you. It took a moment for you to regulate your breathing, pants filling the now silent room.

You sighed out heavily and your hands loosened their grip to allow Wanda to get up from between your trembling legs. With her face in view, you saw her mouth and chin covered with a mix of your wetness and her own saliva. A small laugh of adoration found its way out you at the sight, even if you felt exhausted. “You’re a mess.”

“Like you look any better,” she playfully countered while grinning at your disheveled appearance laid out underneath. As she crawled up to meet you eye to eye, your hand raised up to her chin, gently wiping it with your thumb. She stayed still for you and looked down lovingly, feeling like it was only you two who were present in the world, staring at each other longingly with no disruption. Though shortly, she softly spoke again, worry etched on her without warning. “That wasn’t actually too much for you, was it?”

“No, don’t worry. It wasn’t,” you quickly hushed her concern, your hand coming down as your arm wrapped around her neck to pull down. “It was perfect.”

You felt Wanda’s body loosen as tension left her shoulders, following with a warm smile. Matching her expression, your arm continued to apply a light pressure for her to lower herself, only stopping once your lips met in another loving peck.

“Stay here. I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Wanda said as she got up from you, excusing the look of disappointment from pulling away that she saw. Once you muttered the word of approval, she stood up from the bed and towards the bathroom where you heard water running for a short amount before she swiftly came back.

Wanda approached with a wet hand towel. You lifted your head to watch her intently as she settled back on the mattress, kneeling between the small space between your legs.

“Open up for me,” she commanded with a sweet tone, patting your thigh lightly before you spread a bit more, revealing the mess that was left surrounding your core. “Good girl.”

Splayed out before her, you couldn’t have helped but felt a little too exposed. You looked down at how she gazed at your sensitive area, wiping and soothing your skin with the warm cloth. Her eyes were full of admiration and love replacing the previous lust as she only now yearned to take care of every part of you, all while being able to see the vulnerable state your in despite how she thought of how beautiful you were.

You looked away and shyly waited for Wanda to finish, a growing warmth on your cheeks evident. She took a good portion of time slowly getting you all cleaned up. And once you noticed the longer period without the feeling of anything against you, your head turned back to see her toss the towel to the side carelessly as she never once averted her eyes from you.

You expected her to come forward and lay beside you, but instead she leaned down again with her head between your two limbs. It caught you off guard until you felt a gentle but firm pressure from her soft lips against your pussy, causing your stomach to flare up once again with an intense fluttering. The feeling of the kiss lingered after she pulled away, leaving you in a more patterned daze. She came back up soon and slowly made her way to your side as she quickly snaked her arms around your waist to have you pressed up to her chest, and ignored your flustered self.

“My pretty girl,” Wanda murmured, her hand to your head as she patted down the frizzed up hair. Your scent filled her senses, and she wanted nothing else than to bask in the moment with you. “You did so well for me.”

In response, you smiled against her skin and only clung onto her tighter. Until a teasing remark leaves you at the thought of her unexpected skill and care. “Now I’m starting to think you’re lying about this being your first time with a woman.”

“Oh please, I’m not lying,” she chuckled a bit, tracing your bare skin at the curve of your side. It’s true though, being with you made everything come natural to her, similar to how you’ve been a big factor of her life flowing so much easier. Even if it’s been barely a month.

A moment of silence passed through while the two of you soaked in the feeling of being tangled comfortably under the covers. The subtle grazing of her fingertips soothing you into a state of sleepiness. Yet, you only wanted to stay awake and appreciate it longer. Wanda sighed at your constant shuffling and pulled your head away from her body, tilting it up so she could see you. She observed your tired features and lightly rubbed the side of your cheek. “Why don’t you fall asleep? You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I wanna be awake with you.”

“I’ll be right here next to you in the morning. We’ll have all the time tomorrow, okay?” She smiled at your adorable demeanor, slightly wanting to pamper you more in spite of your sleepy self. In response, you nod up and down before leaning up for another quick kiss. Her smile grew into a grin as you pulled away, and she snuggled you into the crook of her neck as you felt your eyelids finally drop. Wanda muttered a few last words in your ear and caressed your upper body, pulling you into unconsciousness without a single worry.

Part 2(Something New)

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Husband + Monster Reader

[18+, Talk of Nsfw but no outright smut, Spit Kink, Oral, Light Body Horror, Mentions of past Cannibalism, Reader is implied to be taller than Yan]

There are three things your husband would never ask for. Divorce. A homemade birthday cake. And, lastly, anything that would jeopardize his or your health. The rearmost point had its grey areas what with him sacrificing pieces of himself to accommodate your limited palate.

For him to request something from you loosely implies his assurance of its safety for you both-

"I've been thinking lately... It's actually been on my mind since the first time we did... things with each other."

Your husband bites at his lower lip, the thick panels of his glasses failing to hide his shame at even suggesting his mind's tempations to you.

"If it's not too trouble... Would it be out of the realm of possibility for you to... spit on it tonight?"

"Evan-"

Your husband is quick to cut you off, physically shrinking as he interrupts you. Your voice is the last he'd ever want to silence, but he needed to get through to you before the obvious concerns did.

"Hun, I know you're worried. No telling where I'd be now if I didn't have you to keep me safe. And that care you have for me is exactly why I want this."

He couldn't say he needed it. This had to be your choice above anything. Telling you the truth would only persuade you one way or another, and it'd kill him to be that selfish.

"I want you, Honey. All of you." A rising hand encourages you to accommodate your husband's smaller stature, leaning forward as he strokes a thumb over the barely visible line across your neck - the tongue that bleeds everything it touches of its essence hiding just beyond that slit.

Your throat bulges as it stirs, signifying your unease. Evan swiftly averts his eyes, clutching his this thighs together.

"If..." He chokes out, thoughts dwelling on that dense, inciting saliva of yours dripping off his most imitate areas. "If I wear a condom, it should be okay- It's just like when I used to wear gloves while I helped you brush your teeth."

He has a point- Far as either of you are aware, your saliva can only break down organic materials. That doesn't put him in the clear yet.

"What if it tears?"

"If I feel anything out of the ordinary I'll tell you immediately, and we stop to cuddle and watch tv."

"And how much spit do you want from me?"

Evan feigns a coughing fit. He was all for indulging in his twisted fantasies if you were on board with him, but saying them aloud is where things became tricky. "I was thinking you could to lay it on as thick as you can. Make sure I can feel the warmth and the... wetness through the protection. It'd be great if you could use your t-tongue a little too. I've always dreamt of what it'd feel like to have it wrapped around me."

"....You are a perverted man, Evan."

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he utters a small. "I know, but it's why you love me, right?"

Hope beaming from his lovestruck eyes, you squeeze his shoulder as you pass by. "I'll be upstairs when you're ready."

[pshcomforts]

➳ broken love | psh.

dad!sunghoon x mom!femreader

“every time i think of you, it’s just killing me”

synopsis: you and sunghoon still see each other whenever your guys’ daughter, seo-ji, is dropped off to one another — and it’s obvious you two still love each other, even after the divorce papers were finalized.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angsty fluff(?) — mostly angst. kind of aged up(?). not proofread. cursing (i think). unresolved tension. mentions of pregnancy. reader used to hate kids (lmao).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ try again ɞ˚₊

fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: broken love by gemini

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:48 ───|──────────────── 2:04

y/n’s heart was heavy with the burden of being at his doorstep.

“you got this,” she mumbled to herself, knocking the door with shaky hands.

a happy scream of a child was made, one that she knew at heart. her face lit up at the instant yell, already recognizing that it was no other than her adorable daughter, seo-ji.

“mommy’s here! mommy’s here!” the little kid screamed at the other end.

little shakes of the doorknob were heard before it opened to who she expected; her daughter and of course, her ex-husband, park sunghoon.

she felt her heart slightly shatter at the sight of him, anxiety taking over inch by inch.

“hey y/n,” he awkwardly said. her head nodded in response — “hey sunghoon.”

there was quick tension between them, both truthfully not knowing what to say after coming to terms of the divorce.

they still loved each other, longed for each other in fact.

“mommy!” their baby girl intruded, arms opening wide at the sight of her caretaker.

y/n’s face instantly lit up at her little girl, embracing the sweet hug she offered. “hey princess, how was your day with daddy?” she exclaimed with kisses around her daughter’s cheeks.

seo-ji giggled at the act with an utter — “mommy, stop!!”

the mom smiled at her, noticing her light dimples on display inherited from her father.

“it was good! daddy couldn’t stop talking about you and him though!!”

her sudden callout made y/n look at her ex-husband, finding him in a small blushing state.

“aish seo-ji, you said my secret was safe with you!!” he quickly exclaimed to avert her gaze, hands immediately finding their way to his daughter — tickling her all around.

y/n’s eyes softened at the sight, lips automatically upturning to a sweet smile. she missed this, the feeling of being a happy family.

when the giggles from seo-ji soon drowned out, she ran to go get her stuff from the apartment, leaving the two divorcees alone with each other.

they both quickly became awkward and tense like earlier. their hesitant glances towards one another were evidence that their relationship was on good terms only for their daughter, and perhaps more.

but for the time being, everything and anything was uncomfortable between them.

“so.. heard from jake that you have a date tonight?” y/n suddenly blurted, trying to break the ice.

the male’s head shot up. “hm? oh yeah..,” he paused — “sunoo just set it up for me, and practically begged me to go so…,” his voice weakened at the end with an awkward chuckle spurted out.

she nodded at his reasoning in return— “that’s good..,” she slightly trailed off at the end.

“and you?” he squeaked.

y/n gave a small laugh with a shake on her head. “oh no.. my life revolves around our little girl now. she will always have my full attention.” her eyes shifted from sunghoon to her daughter in the background, hearing the rushed talks from seo-ji as she tried to swiftly gather her belongings.

“she’s my life,” she murmured with a smile she didn’t know she had.

as her gaze stayed on their little girl, sunghoon kept his on her. his eyes sparkled with love that he still had for her — love that had never been resolved.

he missed her and her warmth. just everything about her, really.

but the divorce between them was still fresh, giving them fresh wounds to heal from — wounds that had been cut open from their constant fights and arguments.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“sunghoon, please.” y/n sighed in a groggy expression.

“i’m tired too, can’t you see that? you can’t be the only one acting tired here.” he reverted back with a slight eye roll.

“i’ve been watching her all day, you were barely home.”

“you think i’d rather be out, doing work?” he spat. “i’d much rather stay home with our little girl, but does it look like i have a choice? i’m trying to provide for us.”

the girl groaned. “i’m trying to let seo-ji have a good life, you think that she can do that with only me?”

sunghoon clicked his tongue in annoyance as he slightly walked away. his hands were firmly on his hips as he uttered, “did you not just hear me? i want the best for my daughter too, i want to be there too. you’re the one who gets to be with her, i don’t.”

she sighed at his words, heart breaking down each time she let it ring in her ears. she was glad her baby was staying with min-su and her partner, heeseung for the night. the couple came to pick her up towards the end of the day, giving her and sunghoon a moment to say things.

and with their raised voices and constant arguing, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for them. otherwise, it would’ve woken her sweet girl.

“sunghoon..,”

she watched him roll his watery eyes. “what?” he croaked in a weakened tone, voice cracking with every strength he had to hold back his breakdown.

she didn’t continue, letting his eyes meet hers so they could speak their worries through the dreaded gaze.

“this isn’t working..,”

he sighed at the painful truth. “i know… it’s not.”

the two were sat a few feet away from each other as they came to terms of their situation. constant miscommunication and bottled feelings drifted their relationship apart.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“okay, mommy, ready!” seo-ji yelled, quickly clasping onto her mom’s hands. “bye daddy!”

y/n formed a half smile towards her old lover. “let me know when you’ll pick her up,” she mumbled.

sunghoon gave soft kisses towards his daughter before the two walked away — giving him memories of when he’d kiss his used-to-be girl goodbye whenever she left anywhere.

a faint sigh left his throat as he stumbled back into his apartment.

“i should get ready..,” he said to himself, walking away to his planned outfit.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“hey baby, what are you doing?” ji-woo sweetly uttered to her friend’s daughter.

“i’m trying to draw you, auntie ji-woo!” seo-ji yelled back.

a few giggles went around as min-su uttered, “ooh! me next!”

“okay! wait! i’m almost done!”

y/n’s little girl beamed an eye smile, causing ji-woo to say — “she has your eyes.”

“yeah, but she has her dad’s cute smile.” y/n responded, letting her gaze linger on seo-ji’s adorned features.

“so.. you heard about sunghoon right?” dae mumbled with a lip bite.

she quickly glanced at jungwon’s boyfriend before looking back at her daughter, who peered her head up at her dad’s name.

“daddy?” seo-ji whispered.

y/n smiled and nodded. “mhm, daddy’s going out with a friend tonight, that’s why you’re with me!” she gave a soft ruffle to her little girl’s wavy hair — inherited from her mom, of course.

“how long will he be gone? i miss him.”

“you miss him? but i’m with you! how could you miss him when mommy is right here?” y/n pouted, hiding her grin.

“your mommy’s sad now, seo-ji! what are you gonna do!” yelled min-su with a slight gasp.

“oh no!” dae beamed.

“noo! i’m sorry!” seo-ji quickly exclaimed, jumping on her feet to comfort her mom. “help me, auntie min-su and uncle dae! ..mommy??” she poked her mom’s arm.

y/n peeked down at her and found her bulged, puppy eyes melting her heart instantly.

“i’m sorry! i like you just as much as i like daddy!”

“like? you don’t.. love?” the mom teased with a plastered grin.

“oh my gosh, your daughter’s trying to apologize to you!” dae chimed in, playfully scoffing.

y/n huffed out mounds of laughter in her stomach before forgiving her empathetic daughter. she tucked a few hair strands behind her ears, placing soft kisses on her forehead while murmuring, “i forgive you, seo-ji. are you hungry?”

the little girl furiously nodded her head as min-su uttered — “me too!” — followed by ji-woo and dae to chime in as well, causing y/n to laugh with a healing heart.

her daughter and her friends were all she needed.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

seo-ji remained in the dining room area, eating with rolled up sleeves and a tied hair done by her mom.

y/n and her three friends were near but stayed closer to the living room, carefully hearing for the little girl just in case something happened.

“she eats just like you,” min-su said with a slight snort.

her words caused a wide chuckle to erupt out of her friend. “seo-ji’s been with me a lot so i wouldn’t be surprised if she ate just like me.” y/n murmured back with her eyes staring at her daughter.

“are you really okay with the whole sunghoon thing though?”

she glanced at ji-woo who said it, but only nodded.

“nothing much i can do about it, he’s moving on.”

her heart tore a little, ripping open another wound in her chest that was barely healing. she didn’t like how every sentence she spewed left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what else could she do?

“i’m really sorry for how things turned out..,” one of her friends sympathetically said to her.

“it’s okay.. my little girl is all i need.” she murmured, glancing at seo-ji who was just about done.

“mommy! i’m done!”

just as y/n was about to get up, ji-woo stood first.

“don’t worry girl, i’ll get her.”

before the mom could protest, her friend had already rushed to seo-ji. a small smile formed on her face, feeling grateful for all three.

“come on, seo-ji, let’s wash your hands!”

“auntie ji-woo, where’s uncle jake? he’s always here.”

the two walked away to the bathroom, giving ji-woo the chance to give her reasoning that no uncles except dae would join for tonight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours in, and seo-ji was wrapped in y/n’s arms now.

the little girl was settling into her nap time, eyes closing in an instant with the comforting warmth her mom radiated.

y/n continued to tuck a few wavy hair strands away from her daughter’s face, gaze fixated on every gorgeous feature she inherited from her and sunghoon combined.

“i never thought i’d actually see you become a mom.” ji-woo confirmed with a proud smile.

“we’re proud of you,” dae added in.

“you used to always hate kids, but now here you are, having one of your own in your arms.” min-su softly uttered, careful to not wake her niece.

everyone’s eyes gathered on the little girl who was softly snoring in her sleep.

y/n’s eyes were softened the most.

she did, in fact, hate kids, but she loved and cherished her daughter — her daughter, who she never imagined to have.

“it feels like we’ve seen you grown up,” ji-woo continued her sad talk. “remember when you always told us that you and sunghoon would be the last to have kids out of all of us?”

the four broke out into laughter as they thought back to their years of being in college.

“yeah..,” y/n’s heart sank as she remembered how good her and sunghoon used to be. “we were so sure of ourselves that we’d have kids after you all had yours too. we were so bad with handling kids before we had our little girl.”

she smiled back at the memory before hearing dae intrude — “now look at you, you were the first to have a kid.”

“me and heeseung next,” min-su prompted, causing hushed laughter to fill the air.

y/n beamed a wide grin afterwards, standing up to settle her baby down in the bedroom.

after doing it with ease, she walked back out and found dae specifically sitting where she had told sunghoon she was pregnant.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“gorgeous, what happened??” sunghoon bursted out the door, heavy breaths of air leaving his lungs.

he clenched onto his chest with his eyes sewed shut, desperately gasping for oxygen as his girlfriend stayed sitting on the couch in silence.

“y/n? you okay?” he said in a softer tone. “what’s wrong?”

“sunghoon..,” she whimpered.

her head turned to meet his gaze, and almost immediately, her reddened eyes that were puffed from her tears worried the poor boy.

“hey, hey, why are you crying?” he attempted to comfort, arms immediately bringing her into his embrace.

“hoonie…,” she quietly called again.

sunghoon pulled away with a comforting hand placed on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, pretty?”

“i’m..,” y/n sighed with a heavy heart, feeling a lump in her throat as she uttered, “i’m pregnant.”

the male paused every muscle movement in his body. “w..what? you’re what?” he said in denial.

“i’m pregnant,” she repeated, fingers fidgeting around little picks of skin.

it now added up for sunghoon — all of why she was suddenly moody, why her period was delayed, why she kept talking about feeling sick — the girl he loved was pregnant.

a gasp of air left him as he grinned ear to ear, heart feeling full with the thought of a baby on the way.

“you’re pregnant,” he reiterated with an upbeat tone. “you’re really pregnant.” he quickly stood on his feet before yelping in joy. tears were quick to fill his eyes as he felt like someone who had just won the lottery.

as her boyfriend continued to celebrate, y/n stayed sitting, chewing on her lips in fear.

“sunghoon.. please sit..,”

the boy quickly obliged, though his excitement still seeped through him in every way possible.

slowly, her eyes trailed up to meet his. and almost instantly, her heart fluttered at how handsome he looked — but it shattered within seconds of the news she was gonna deliver to him.

“i don’t know if i want this…,” she cracked out.

“o..oh…,” hoon blinked with a dry throat. “you don’t want to keep the baby?”

y/n quickly shook her head, tears already filling her eyes for the worst outcome.

but his hands placed itself on hers, letting his fingers cling around to reassure while he continued — “it’s your decision, gorgeous, i won’t force you.”

she shot her head up at him, and sunghoon only pushed his lips together to form a confirming smile.

“having a baby with you is what i want, but just not right now. we’re too young, and we’re both barely starting life and-“

her constant blabbering was shut up by a quick peck on the lips from her boyfriend. “we are young, y/n, but this decision is entirely up to you. i want this with you, and i want to be a dad but if you decide that you don’t want to yet, then that’s okay.”

sunghoon’s thumb rubbed little strokes on her crying cheeks as he spoke with his caring eyes.

he wanted the baby, but he wanted y/n more.

“can i think about this first?” she uttered with sparkling eyes.

his thick brows knitted together to convey how she could even question a thing like that. “of course you can, pretty girl. think about it, and let me know.”

the boy placed a sweet and comforting kiss on his girl’s forehead before pulling her into a hug.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what broke y/n’s heart the most was how the stress of raising a child never bothered to pop into their head until later — when the continuous struggles got to the soon-married couple.

all they wanted was to be a family, and all they wanted was to have their daughter have loving parents who were in a loving relationship.

and of course they had their moments of joy when everything felt perfect for a while.

like when sunghoon would sleep closely next to seo-ji when she was an infant after watching her all day, and his body would be facing toward his baby girl. then y/n would come home, find them softly snoring, and laugh silently to herself when catching onto her baby’s wavy hair contrasting with hoon’s messy hair that fell to the front of his face.

or when seo-ji would wake up in some mornings with a sudden, personal preference on which parent she wanted — it mainly being y/n. and their little girl would cling onto her, making sunghoon pout in return of how his daughter had most of his features but would much rather be with her mom. little complaints would leave his mouth, but he secretly loved to see his small family together.

or, when seo-ji was still one, and sunghoon remained persistent in going ice skating so the three went to an ice rink. their baby would be dressed in warm clothing with mini earmuffs and gloves wrapped around her hands. and hoon would carefully glide the little girl around, letting her get used to the constant slippery surface while y/n personally sat the ice skating out and recorded instead.

or even, when they’d go to gatherings planned by their friends and everyone would instantly go to seo-ji, leaving the exhausted parents to intertwine their hands and watch how much their friends adored their child. little murmurs of — “us next?” would constantly be heard all around while uncle jay would try and snatch her away from everyone else.

nothing could beat those fond memories that were shared upon sunghoon, y/n, and their special little girl, seo-ji.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a sigh left y/n as she walked to her ex-husband’s apartment. days had gone by since she was last here to pick her daughter up, and now she’s dropping her off once again.

“be good okay? i know daddy probably misses you a lot,” she muttered, hands moving her daughter’s strands of hair.

“mhm! i will!”

a few knocks on the door were made before it creaked open to the handsome man, sunghoon.

“daddy!” seo-ji yelled, quickly detangling her hands from her mom’s to jump into hoon’s arms.

“seo-ji! how’s my little girl?” he left constant kisses around her cheeks, causing little laughter to burst out of her.

y/n beamed a smile at the sight in front of her. she knew they weren’t a family anymore, but it was somewhat healing to know that they could still share loving moments like this.

she heard her old partner yell out in joy, laughing with their daughter and giving wide grins that still secretly lit up her heart.

she still loved him.

“alright, i’m gonna take off, but be good, seo-ji. i’ll come pick you up some time soon, okay?” y/n mumbled.

her baby girl stood with a pout. “you’re leaving already?” she frowned. “you can’t! i don’t want you to! just stay a little longer in daddy’s house.”

y/n immediately chuckled at her daughter’s words. “i have to go, i have to meet auntie ji-woo and them soon.”

seo-ji’s eyes were quickly filled with tears as her bottom lip puffed out. “please mommy..,”

the mom’s heart shattered at her words but she only sighed.

“i’m sorry baby, i’ll come soon though okay?”

her daughter sighed as well before giving a tight hug around her mom.

sunghoon watched his two girls with soft eyes, heart slightly melting at this cherishing memory.

he loved the little things like this when they were still together.

and the one thing that always made him fall in love with y/n even more was how she always mentioned her hatred for kids, but when their daughter came into their life, she immediately loved her with no resentment.

everything about y/n was his weakness and it still showed because —

he still loved her.

“i’ll miss you,” seo-ji muffled through her sobs.

“i’ll miss you too, seo-ji.” y/n pulled away, wiping the tears from her sweet girl as she placed a soft kiss on her cheeks. “have fun with dad though, he misses you a lot too.”

she glanced up to hoon with a half smile. “okay i have to go because if i’m any later, uncle dae will be scolding me! here’s her backpack.”

the girl raised the bag and allowed sunghoon to take it, letting his fingers softly graze against hers.

there was a flicker — a spark, almost, at their little touch.

something was obviously still alive between the two when they glanced up at each other, eyes quickly shifting back and forth with their unresolved tension.

a linger was made present in the air, both not wanting to break the locked gaze but needing to anyway.

y/n walked away after saying one last goodbye to her daughter, feeling heavily burdened at the weighed pressure in her heart; while sunghoon closed the door behind him, mind and heart painfully filled with the memory of his ex-wife, and the mere thought of how much he loved her.

they knew they couldn’t though.

they shouldn’t, for the sake of their daughter, seo-ji.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: i just wanted to say as well, that i see the requested oneshots in my inbox, and i will try my best to write them! but it may take me a while, so please be patient with me <3 also someone tell me if this oneshot came out okay bc i wrote this at 3am with tired eyes..

[rainydayathogwarts]

Age gap - Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Your coworkers find out you love age gaps, but don't know about the relationship with your boss and the age gap within it. warnings: mentions of sex, brief smut ish, rs with your boss takes place in like s1 - hotch and haley are already divorced here. age gap (reader late 20s/hotch 40s) - also we're going to ignore how i keep posting these off schedule 0.7k+ wc

You hadn't meant to attract the entire team's attention. The 'never have I ever' question had been accusingly aimed at Emily, who's been in just about every type of controversial relationship, but if you were telling the truth, you'd been in more than one relationship with a significant age gap. You tried averting your gaze away from any of your teammates' stare, hoping they wouldn't call you out on drinking. "I'm sorry, how old are you again?" Penny's question was the first, followed by:

"How big was the age gap?"

"Since when are you into older men?" and

"It was just one relationship right?"

"I won't be taking questions." You stated, but Penelope's harsh glare had you pouting, leaning back against the booth. "Okay, well you know how old I am." Having joined the team a mere year ago, you had surprised everyone with your young skin and healthy locks, a smile filled with innocence that had made them guess you were still young. Luckily, being so young and attractive had allowed the team to make fast progress on certain cases. Dealing with difficult Sheriffs on non-local cases was made relatively easier when all you had to do was smile at them and laugh at whatever inappropriate joke they made about you to get your way. Despite the team telling you that you didn't have to deal with the perverted cops, you'd shrugged it off, saying it only made everyone's live easier.

It was always worth it, especially when you went back to the hotel at night and were whisked away into Hotch's room, where he pinned you down against the bed, thrusting into you jealously while grunting into your ear that you were his. His and no stupid cops'.

Aside from that, your humour and light-hearted nature made it easier for the team to live with their traumatic jobs on a day to day life. Especially when you managed to better the SSA's mood when he was feeling particularly grumpy. "Okay how big was the age gap?" Pressed Derek with raised eyebrows. You shrugged, sipping your cold drink. "Depends which man you're talking about." Emily let out a long whistle, commenting "Looks like I've been dethroned."

Giggling, you traced the rim of your glass, licking your lips softly. "It's just a preference." You added, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief. "Rossi, Hotch, watch out." JJ joked, making your gaze shift to the two older men on the team. You tried not to let your stare linger on Hotch, who was sat directly facing you, otherwise a clear indicator of the liking you'd taken to your boss. "Biggest age gap was older than I am." You weren't sure if your drunken words made much sense, but from the audible gasp Spencer let out, you assumed it was. "So that's what... twenty-eight years?" You hummed, looking up at the ceiling while trying to do the maths. Giving up, you shrugged your shoulders, muttering "Something like that."

At your team's impressed whistles and little jokes, you risked another glance at Aaron, who was already looking at you, a soft smile on his face. Quickly turning away from him, you asked "Why, Emily how big was your age gap?" Emily's answer barely hit your ears because you were too busy feeling for Aaron's leg under the table. When you finally felt the soft cotton of his trousers against the skin of your foot, you ran it up his leg, catching his reddening face from the corner of your eye as you maintained eye contact with Emily instead, nodding along with her.

You were sure that if Aaron focused hard enough, he would still be able to feel your hands on his thighs from when you crouched under his desk bare hours ago, licking up the underside of his dick before latching onto the tip, sucking so eagerly that he had to cover his mouth to stifle his moans. "You're coming back home with me after drinks tonight." He had told you, a hand on your waist when you were finally finished, fixing up your lipstick. "Then I can properly reward you for everything." And you couldn't wait, thighs clenching in anticipation.

Now all you had to do was sit with your friends and laugh along to their jokes, trying not to drag your boss away into a bathroom stall so that he could finally take you home, bending you over his couch with his fingers shoved down your throat so that you wouldn't wake the neighbours.

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #3 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You anxiously put on your mascara, nervousness building in your chest when your date texted that he was less than five minutes away. It’s been forever since you’ve been on a date, the last one you ever went on was with Toji. You began to grow anxious, a million questions running through your head, self doubt and everything in between. The kids were with Shoko, thankfully she was free for the weekend or else you might’ve had to cancel entirely no thanks to Toji.

You screwed the mascara shut, tossing it back in your makeup bag as you took one last look in the mirror, hands running over your dress to make sure it was flattened out and tight fitting. “Okay.” You took in a deep breath in, trying to calm your nerves. Though all came flooding back once the doorbell rang. “Shit! Okay, okay, be calm,” you spoke to yourself, striding towards the front door, heels hitting the wood below you. You gulped, fingers fidgeting with the lock before you opened the door to finally reveal your date. “Hi!” You smiled.

“Hi…wow,” he looked over your figure, “you look…amazing.” He couldn’t stop staring at you, a small smirk on his face. “These are for you.” He handed you a bouquet of followers.

The smile on your face grew wider as you grabbed the flowers from his hand, sniffing them. “Thank you so much, Nanami.” You averted your gaze towards him. “You look really handsome as well.” It felt like you were back in middle school again, talking to your crush for the first time ever. He wore a black button down, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pair of classic black slacks. His outfit rightfully complimenting yours. “Please, come in.” You grabbed the empty vase that sat on your countertop, filling it with water and placing the flowers in. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them, they were one of the very few left,” he chuckled. He bit the inside of his cheek when you looked over your shoulder and flashed him a smile. He cleared his throat as you walked over to him.

“Well, thank you again. Shall we get going?” You asked, staring up at him through thick lashes.

Your faces were only inches apart as he held the stare, your perfume filling his lungs each time he took a breath. It was quite intoxicating. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

It was already an hour into the date, you and Nanami were already making great conversation, finding out that you two had a lot in common. He was a hard working man, but always tried to find time for himself when it was necessary. He had his whole life put together, very obvious from the car you two drove to the restaurant in. He was such a gentleman, opening the car door for you, pull out the chair for you. It had you swooning. He had you swooning.

“How’s your pasta?” He asked, slightly leaning forward on the table.

You covered your mouth as you finished chewing. “It’s amazing!” Your eyes swelled up in joy. “Is this your first time here?” You asked.

“It is! I wanted to take you to somewhere new. I’ve driven by this place a few times and it looked pretty interesting. Glad my instincts are paying off,” he laughed, placing his fork down.

“Well, sir, you have excellent taste.” You smiled at him. “How is your food? It looks delicious.”

“It is! Would you like to try some?” He asked.

“Oh, no, no, please you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“I insist. Come on, I know you want to!” He picked up the crab cake he had ordered, breaking off a piece before placing it on a napkin and handing it to you. “Go on, tell me how good it is.” He watched intently as you ate, waiting for your reaction.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so buttery with a slight sweetness,” you let out a satisfied moan. “I’m jealous, Nanami.” He laughed at how serious your face turned once you finished.

He stared at your smile, finding himself mirroring it. You were very lighthearted and fun to be around, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. He was already starting to think about the second date. “Call me Kento.”

“So, how’s the new girlfriend doing?” Gojo asked as he sat on the couch next to Toji, a beer in his hand. Toji glanced at Gojo before averting his gaze back to the television in front of him.

“She’s fine,” he answered, no emotion in his voice. He took a swig of his beer, letting out a sigh. Gojo poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“Just fine?” Gojo questioned. “You haven’t told me one thing about her since you two got together.”

“Don’t need to,” Toji bluntly stated. Immediately, Gojo could tell something else was plaguing Toji’s mind. Even with a few beers in his system, Toji wasn’t opening up. He knew exactly what it was. Him and Toji have been good friends for years, it’d be shame if he couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Okay, so how’s y/n and the kids?” Gojo raised a brow, staring Toji down. There was silence where there was supposed to be answer. He swore he could see Toji’s jaw clench at the mention of your name. Something happened that Toji didn’t tell him about. “Let me guess, you and y/n had some sort of argument and now you’re being pissy about it cause she was one hundred percent right like always?” Gojo batted his eyelashes, giving a cheeky smile.

“Shut the hell up, Gojo,” Toji warned, putting the beer bottle to his lips and taking a big gulp.

“Ah, so I’m right.” There was smug smile on his face as leaned back into the couch. “What is it this time? Did she finally find someone else?” Toji sucked in a breath before exhaling, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Gojo let out an audible gasp, “she did, didn’t she? Holy shit.”

“I don’t know for sure, but we got into an argument about me not taking the kids this weekend, she asked if it was because of yoko and I told her it wasn’t her business and that she was jealous. Then, she told me she had plans, but wouldn’t say with who. So…yeah. You happy?” Toji turned his head towards the white haired man beside him.

Gojo let out a small giggle, before stopping himself. “I’m sorry, you called the mother of your children jealous of your new girlfriend because she asked why you couldn’t take your children? What an asshole you are.” Gojo slowly nodded his head, brows raised in amusement.

“I get it, Gojo. Shut the hell up.” Toji had a firm grip on the beer bottle in his hand, afraid that if he squeezed it any harder, it’d shatter.

“Don’t get me wrong, Yoko is cute and all, but y/n,” Gojo let out a whistle, “y/n is where it’s at. She’s dealt with your ass for eight years, birthed two kids, and is hot as hell..I’d take her over Yoko any day. I see why you couldn’t stay away from her.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Toji glared at Gojo, using what restraint he had not to punch his friends teeth in.

“Just saying.” Gojo shrugged.

Toji’s phone began to ring, quickly grabbing it to see that Shoko was calling. His brows furrowed before he got up from the couch and answered it. “Hello?”

“Yo, Toji, your kids wanted to say goodnight,” Shoko stuffed some ice cream in her mouth, ready to hand the phone off to Megumi, but Toji spoke before anything.

“My kids? You’re the one babysitting my kids? Where’s y/n? Is she there?” Toji leaned against the kitchen counter, brows still knitted together.

“Jeez, you’re full of questions. Yes, I’m watching your kids, and y/n is…on a very, very nice date. Anyway, here are your children,” said with a chipper tone.

Megumi grabbed the phone from Shoko, putting it up to his ear. “Hi, dad, I just wanted to say goodnight. Naya already fell asleep.”

“Hi, buddy, goodnight to you too. Tell your sister I said goodnight if she wakes up, okay?” Toji spoke, placing his beer on top of the counter. He was trying to avoid sounding upset, the information Shoko just told him had his blood boiling.

“I will. I love you, bye!” Megumi quickly hung up the phone before Toji could even respond, leaving his father standing in silence.

The cold night breeze blew past your exposed legs as you walked up to your front door with Nanami, his hand holding yours as he helped you up the steps, making sure you didn’t trip in your heels. “Thank you so much, Kento. I had a great time with you,” you said with a smile, avoiding his gaze.

“I had a great time with you too. Must I say, once again, you look really beautiful tonight. I know you must be tired of hearing me say it, but I can’t help myself.” You took notice of how his eyes scanning over your body, focusing on the tight dress that you wore.

“Trust me, I could listen to you compliment me all night.” It was sort of bold of you to say such a thing, but with the way this man was flirting with you since the moment he laid eyes on you, it was only fair.

“Oh yeah?” His broad body grew closer to you, closing in the small distance. “Maybe we can do that on the second date then?”

You found the courage to look him in his eyes, not daring to pull away, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I was thinking the same thing,” you responded.

“Good, glad we’re on the same page. Same time next weekend, better be ready.” A smirk tugged at his plush lips.

“Don’t worry, I will. Goodnight, Kento.” You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on his cheek. His hand slipped from yours as you pulled away, unlocking your front door and walking inside.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He took one last good look at you, taking in your smile before shutting the door. Nanami stood on your porch for a while, hands in his pockets, biting down on his bottom lip. He turned to walk down the steps only to stop himself, looking back at your door. Without thinking, he knocked on it.

You opened the door. “Oh, did I forget something?”

“Forgive me.” He cupped your face, planting his lips on yours, a feverish kiss shared between your two. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, gently biting on it. “I couldn’t resist,” he pants.

You were taken by surprise, but still kissed him back. Deep down, you were hoping this would happen. All night the tension was so thick that you could cut with a knife. The way he’d look at you, undressing you with his eyes, only for you to be doing the same. His hands ran up under your dress, squeezing at your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss to speak, “I was waiting all night for you to do this.”

“Yeah, sweetheart? Better not disappoint you then.” His hands ran up your thighs and to your ass, pushing you against the front door. Your hands tangled in his blonde locks as he left wet kisses down your neck. “You looked so good all night I was finding it hard to contain myself,” he admitted. He pushed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge forming in his pants.

“Just fuck me already,” you moaned. The wetness pooling in your panties was obvious, your cunt throbbing.

“Where?” He quickly asked.

“Anywhere,” you breathily replied.

“Anywhere?” He questioned.

“Anywhere.” You nodded. All while Nanami was stripping you of your dress, you were blissfully unaware of your phone vibrating in your purse for the third time in under two minutes.

“She’s not answering the fucking phone.” Toji tossed his phone on the counter, Gojo standing there with his arms crossed in amusement.

“She’s probably getting the best fuck of her life. Leave her be, she deserves it.” Gojo pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“If you say one more thing, I’m gonna kill you,” Toji threatened. Gojo loved to piss Toji off, especially when he rightfully deserved it. And in this case, he did. “I’m gonna go over there.”

“Don’t go over there! You annoy her enough!” Gojo easily snatched the keys from Toji’s hands. “Wait until tomorrow, okay? Let the woman enjoy her night, she doesn’t need you ruining it.” He stuffed the keys in his pocket.

“Fuck off.” Toji grabbed his beer, chugging it like it was water. He had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t deny these feeling brewing in his chest. The thought of someone else seeing you like he has, learning your body the way he has, treating you the way you deserved to be treated, and treating his kids with respect, he fucking hated it. He sounded like such an asshole, but deep down a part of you was always his.

“I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be too happy to hear you still care so much about your ex wife getting fucked.” He stared at Toji through his glasses.

“Yeah, well, surprise, she’s not really a girlfriend. I was just seeing her,” he explained.

“Like fuck buddies?” Gojo questioned. Toji answered with a nod. “Interesting that you choose your fuck buddy over your ex wife. Now look at you, lonely and jealous.” Gojo walked off back into the living room.

“You’re insufferable,” Toji muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He’ll let you enjoy your night, but he was definitely going to have a talk with you tomorrow morning whether you liked it or not.

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 12. the trial pt.1

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Madeline preps you for the first day of the trial and shares a surprise witness being called to Patrick's defense, and Patrick requests to speak to you unexpectedly.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), phone sex, m and f masturbation, dirty talk, mother issues (could be perceived as parental emotional abuse, and probably is), possessive!joel, recounting of previous DV and SA

WC: 7.2K

A/N: If anything in this chapter jumps out as you like 'I don't think that's how the law works', just move past it. I had Google and a dream.

Series Masterlist

The flickering florescent lights from the grocery store were starting to give you a headache as you slowly made your way up and down the aisles, occasionally stopping to grab a bag of chips or some mac and cheese. It was late. The store was quiet. You were supposed to be buying things to keep in your hotel room when you got to Austin, but you could hardly focus. You had the weekend to pack, buy supplies, and check into your room before meeting with Madeline on Monday. She was planning on using most of the day to prepare you for the trial, which was scheduled to start first thing Tuesday morning, and your nerves were a mess. And to make matters worse, Joel wouldn't be able to get to Austin until the morning of the trial.

The one silver lining was your divorce. Madeline felt confident after speaking to his lawyer that Patrick would be signing the papers this week. The cynical part of you wondered if there was a catch because Patrick was never one to take things lying down, but you tried to push it out of your mind. Instead, you focused on the variety of microwavable popcorn in front of you. Butter, lightly salted, movie theater... would you even notice much of a difference? You stepped forward to grab the first box you saw when another person unexpectedly walked right into you. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear someone else coming down the aisle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you began. When you looked up to meet their eyes, the polite smile you had forced across your face immediately fell.

"Nikki, hi," you said, taking a small step back towards your cart. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

She tossed you a thin smile and not so subtly eyed you up and down.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Read anything good recently?" she asked icily, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Not really. I haven't had much time," you told her, averting your gaze down the empty aisle.

"Oh, that's right. I heard you're getting a divorce," she said with a little pout, and you nodded as the heat began to creep up your chest. "Gotta make sure all those papers are signed before you go jumping into someone else's bed, right?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, lips parting in surprise. You thought she would have been a little more subtle than that.

"I hope you at least made sure he was worth it before leaving your husband for him, because woman to woman, I gotta warn you... it's nothing to write home about," she told you with a wink. You frowned and took another step back.

"I'm not leaving my husband because of Joel-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" she said cheerily.

"N-no, really, nothing's going on-"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she whispered, giving you one more fake smile before turning on her heel and waltzing down the aisle, leaving you in shock.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you absentmindedly rubbed your eyes. Angrily, you reached out and snatched the box of popcorn before turning your cart in the opposite direction.

You hated the idea of someone in this small town having it out for you. She had been swaying the entire female population to turn on you just because she went on a couple dates with Joel and she figured out he had feelings for you, which was hardly your fault. But you thanked your lucky stars she didn't seem to know just how close you and Joel really were, because if she did, there was no doubt in your mind she would have spread that news like wildfire.

Impulsivity won and you swung your cart down the candy aisle, throwing far too many items into your basket.

To hell with Nikki. She had no idea what you were going through and you didn't have time for her high-school bullshit, so you forced yourself to move past it. Besides, you had much more important things to worry about. Like if you should buy Reese's or Snickers.

"I hate all my clothes."

"C'mon, they can't be that bad," Joel's voice filtered through your phone. You tapped the speakerphone button and dropped it onto your bed in order to free up both your hands, then held up two ugly blouses against your chest while you looked in the mirror.

"They really are," you told him, scrunching up your nose. "But Madeline told me if I wore stuff like this, it would look more sympathetic to a jury. Like I'm some poor, modest housewife in need of saving," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"Well, if Maddy told you to wear somethin' specific, you should listen to her. She knows what she's doin'. I've known her a long time, this isn't her first rodeo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you grumbled, picking up a couple of skirts that, in your opinion, were far too long and didn't make you feel very confident.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

"Thanks, but you're biased," you teased, and you heard a soft chuckle float through the speaker.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. There was a small pause as you continued to sift through your clothes, then he asked, "are you tryin' anythin' on right now?"

"No, once at the store was plenty," you huffed, then began folding the skirts up to place them in the bottom of your suitcase.

There was another pause before he spoke again.

"Then what are you wearin'?"

Your hands stilled and you sucked in a breath when you finally realized what he had been hinting at the past few minutes. Glancing down, you grimaced at your favorite pair of stained sweatpants and a tank top that had fraying straps, but you refused to throw it away because it made you feel skinny.

"A tank top," you finally answered, leaving out the part about your ratty old sweatpants.

"Mm, the white one?"

"Yes," you replied, your pulse already thrumming steadily in your throat at the line of questioning.

"Wish I was there with you," he said, his voice low just in case Sarah could hear from her bedroom. "I can see right through that top, drives me fuckin' crazy."

Glancing in the mirror, you realized he was right. You could see the outline of your nipples clear as day in the right lighting.

"Joel, is this a good idea?" you asked, but found yourself flopping down on your bed anyway next to your phone, your fingers dancing at your waistband.

"You're stressed, right?" he asked, his voice a little breathless now and you knew he must have been stroking himself. You've done this dance too many times.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Lemme help you relax, then."

You chewed on your lower lip as you stared up at your ceiling. You knew doing this with him complicated things and you were supposed to be able to take the stand in a few days and honestly say you weren't in a relationship with Joel, but the lines were too blurred and at this point, you had no idea how you would answer that question.

Then again, what difference would one more time make?

"Okay."

"Good girl," he murmured, and you felt yourself flutter at the praise. "Where are you right now?"

"I'm laying in bed," you told him, closing your eyes so you could focus just on his voice.

"And are you touchin' yourself?"

"No," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I want to." You heard him utter a soft groan.

"Go ahead. Just one finger and I want you to tell me how wet you are."

Slipping your hand under your waistband, you did as you were told, choosing the tip of your middle finger to slide through your folds and prod gently at your entrance.

"So wet," you murmured, then teased yourself again, collecting the arousal pooling there. "All wet because of you, Joel," you added breathily.

"Fuck, I wish I was there," he whispered again, and you slowly pushed your middle finger inside with a moan.

"W-what would you do?" you stammered as you felt the tension begin to build, a warm heat sparking low in your belly.

"I'd taste you first," he said lowly. "Only got to do it once, been dreamin' of doin' it again. You taste so fuckin' good, d'ya know that?" His accent deepened the more aroused he became, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You're really good at it," you mumbled into the phone, your finger curling inside you, that one spot just out of reach.

"Tell me how much you liked it," he rasped, and a little groan slipped past your lips, your finger still pumping in and out.

"Loved it," you moaned, and you heard his heavy breathing now as he listened to you intently. "F-felt so good. God, that tongue... my thighs burned the next day from your beard. Felt it all night at work... thought about you s-so much. Fuck, Joel, I need more," you whined, your back arching pathetically.

"Add another finger and play with your clit, baby," he whispered, and you thought you could hear him fucking his fist on the other end, but his heavy pants drowned out the noise. You did as he said, gasping in relief at the extra stimulation while your legs began to shake.

"Joel-" you whimpered, but he cut you off.

"When this is all over, I'm gonna wake you up every mornin' with my mouth between your legs," he said with a grunt. "Would'ya like that? Hm? You want my tongue inside that tight little pussy? Want me to suck on your clit til you can't remember your name?"

"Oh, fuck, Joel, I-I think I'm gonna come," you cried out softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your finger rubbed fast little circles over your clit, your hips rocking against the heel of your hand as you chased your release.

"Go ahead, lemme hear you. Say my name, baby," he panted, his voice cracking, and you knew he was close. "Tell me - shit - tell me I'm the only man who's ever made you come."

And you did just that.

You fell over the edge, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over as you soaked your own hand, and once you got your bearings, you moaned about how good he made you feel, how no one else could ever compare, how you couldn't wait until he was in your bed again because your own fingers no longer satisfied you now that you've had him. You kept talking until you heard a sharp intake of breath and a low, muffled groan on the other end of the line, leaving each of you quietly panting for air.

"Feel better?" he asked after a few minutes, and even though he couldn't see you, you smirked.

"Yes," you whispered. You could hear him shifting around in his bed, his sheets bunching up and the springs on his mattress squeaked. "I miss you," you added sadly, thinking about the one night you got to sleep in his bed. How comfortable you felt. How at ease it made you feel, and he wasn't even in the bed with you. Just being around him was all it took.

"Me, too. We're so close, baby. Just a few more days. A week, tops."

His words instilled a newfound vigor in you. The fear and anxiety you felt about the trial temporarily disappeared and instead, you felt powerful. In charge. Confident. And eager to take your life back.

Monday

"Have you heard from any of the other women?" you asked Madeline hopefully, and she gave you a quick shake of her head.

"Not yet. I'm sorry," she replied, knowing you were all crossing your fingers that some of the women Joel talked to in Philadelphia would change their minds and come forward, but as hard as he tried to convince them, they were all too scared to say something, putting you back at square one. He had high hopes for one girl in particular, Nina, but so far she had refused to answer his or Madeline's calls and time was running out. "Don't worry, hun. We still have all the evidence on our side. We have the medical records, I can prove years of abuse with that and testimony from the people you put us in contact with. I am confident we will win, regardless of the other victims," she told you, looking you dead in the eye, and you believed her.

"Okay," you replied, taking a deep breath and nodding your head. "And again, I'm sorry I couldn't get anywhere with my mom. Do you think we'll still do okay without her?"

Madeline sat back in her chair and slid her glasses off, holding them gently in her hands while giving you a look across her desk that made your stomach twist.

She had bad news.

"We would do just fine without her, but I found out this morning that she was subpoenaed by the defense."

You stared at her, not quite understanding what you were hearing.

"What does that mean?" you finally asked, and although you had an idea, you needed her to say it.

"She agreed to speak on Patrick's behalf."

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, refusing to allow your mother to cause you any more pain. Before you could say anything, Madeline spoke up again.

"Don't let it upset you. They might think they're making a power move, but I'll destroy her on the stand, mark my words. It will only help our case and paint the picture of a lifetime of abuse," she told you, putting her glasses back on before looking back down at the file in front of her. You hadn't ever considered your relationship with your mother as abusive before. You just assumed most girls had problems with their mothers growing up. But if she was willing to help your husband over her own daughter, essentially supporting everything Patrick has done to you, then 'abusive' was really the only word you could use at that point to describe your relationship.

"Okay, what else," you asked hurriedly, looking down at your hands folded on your lap.

"Well since we are already on the shitty news portion of the day, I do have one more thing I need to mention, and before I tell you, just know you can do absolutely whatever you want, okay? Do not feel pressured to go through with it-"

"Just say it," you told her, and she took a brief pause before continuing.

"Patrick asked to speak to you before the trial. He's holding the divorce papers as a hostage. Says he will sign them if you speak to him."

Your eyes shot up to meet hers in shock.

That was not something you were expecting to hear.

"W-why would he want to talk to me?" you stammered, and you could feel your heart beginning to pound louder in your chest, the fear and anxiety quickly taking hold yet again, just like it always did when it came to Patrick.

"My guess? He probably wants to convince you to drop the charges in exchange for a divorce. And that is something we are not going to do, understand me?" Madeline said, narrowing her eyes at you. "If my hunch is correct, he's scared. He knows he's going to lose and he is desperate. We do not need him to play nice here. I can get a judge to grant an annulment if he won't sign, it will just prolong everything a little more, but the end result will be the same."

The idea of your divorce taking even longer made your blood boil. You wanted to be with Joel. You wanted this to be over. It was only supposed to be a few more days... a week, tops.

Madeline could tell you were spiraling because she put her pen down and stood up from her chair.

"You don't have to talk to him. You are under no obligation to hear him out. We can just go through with everything the way we planned-"

"I'll talk to him," you said quietly.

"I have to give you my honest opinion here. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm not going to drop the charges, but... I don't know. Maybe I can convince him this is over. And if not, I'll just get up and leave," you told her firmly, and she examined you carefully before sighing.

"Alright. I'll contact his attorney and set something up in the morning. If you change your mind, you let me know. Night or day, five minutes before you walk into that room, it doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to do this."

"I know," you said, "I want to."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing you on what to expect for the trial. After opening statements, Madeline would argue your case with the evidence she collected and the witnesses she subpoenaed, then Patrick's lawyer would have the opportunity to cross examine and afterwards, it would be their turn to defend Patrick with their own witnesses before closing statements and deliberation. Madeline guessed the whole thing would take two or three days at the most, and that gave you some relief. No matter what happened, this would be over by the end of the week.

"I'll call you to the stand last," Madeline said. "It's best if your testimony is freshest for the jury, especially right before the defense states their case."

"Okay. And what do I do when I'm up there? Should I look at the jury or the judge, or just you?"

"Look wherever you feel comfortable, but don't offer any extra information outside of the question being asked. We'll rehearse the questions I'm going to ask before you leave today, and when it comes time for the defense to cross examine, give as little information as possible. Yes or no answers. And they'll try to get you upset - don't let them. That's important, okay?"

"Yes," you said with a nod. "I understand."

After you ran through the questions, Madeline sent you back to your hotel room with the list for you to review and practice on your own, but your head was pounding by the end of the day. Your eyes burned and your mind was racing and all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body wouldn't let you. You ended up pacing around your room and trying not to let your anxiety about seeing Patrick in the morning torment you. You had just found a mindless cooking competition show to put on to help distract you when your phone pinged next to you on the nightstand.

Joel: All ready for tomorrow?

You: I think so, but I'm nervous. Can't sleep.

Pausing for a moment, you added another text.

You: I'm meeting with Patrick in the morning before it starts.

It took less than two minutes for your phone to ring.

"What d'you mean? Why're you meetin' with him?" Joel's voice asked aggressively the moment you answered the call.

"He's holding out signing the papers until he speaks to me," you explained. "He says he'll sign them if I talk to him. I figured there's no harm, he can't hurt me-"

"No harm?!" Joel exclaimed, and you quickly stopped talking. "All he does is harm! The fuck are you thinkin'?" he asked, sounding less angry and more upset now.

"Madeline said it'll take longer to get a divorce if he refuses to sign. I just want this over with, Joel!" you said, your voice beginning to break. "I don't want to wait a few more weeks or months. I'm fucking done! And if listening to whatever he has to say for twenty minutes gets him to sign the goddamn papers, then I'll do it! Because I can't do this anymore!" you sobbed into the phone, the tears you fought to hold back all day finally coming to the surface.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said soothingly, and you took a few shaky breaths in. He waited until your breathing steadied before speaking again. "What time are you supposed to see him?"

"8:30," you said, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Alright, I'll be there," he said. "Just in case. I wanna be there."

"You can't come in the room with me, Joel."

"You can't go in alone," he argued.

"Madeline said the conference room they booked has a door with a window. You can both watch from the hall."

He grumbled to himself on the other end and you waited, chewing on your lower lip nervously, for him to say something.

"One wrong move and I'm puttin' his head through the fuckin' wall," he muttered.

"That wouldn't exactly help your lawsuit," you reminded him.

"You let me worry 'bout that," he said, and you yawned. He must have heard you because his voice softened. "You gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"I know," you replied, and although you felt like you wouldn't get much restful sleep, your eyelids were still getting heavy.

"I'll be there bright and early, alright? And I'm stayin' til it's over."

"What about Sarah?" you asked sleepily.

"She's stayin' at a friend's house. Couldn't be more excited about it. Practically kickin' me out," he said with a chuckle.

You laughed as you stared blankly at the TV, watching some poor girl cry when her crème brûlée burnt. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel bit his tongue on the other end of the call, holding back the words he really wanted to say but knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he said "good night, baby. See you in the mornin'."

Tuesday

As expected, you tossed and turned all night. It was clear as day when you caught your reflection in the mirror and winced at what you saw. The bags under your bloodshot eyes wouldn't be tamed by the concealer Maria bought you so long ago, but you tried your best, anyway. After picking out the least ugly shirt and skirt combination, you made sure your hair looked decent before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door of your hotel room.

The first step towards your freedom.

You were proud of yourself. You had actually managed to not let the nerves get to you until you entered the courthouse and saw Madeline tapping away on her phone, wearing a dark blue pantsuit and hair pulled back in a simple bun, with a black leather suitcase hung over her shoulder. She looked up when she heard you approach, giving your outfit a nod of approval before enveloping you in a quick hug.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said, giving her a nervous smile. Your hands were beginning to shake as she walked you down a secluded hallway towards the conference room she had booked for your conversation with Patrick. You could feel your chest tighten with every step you took, but when you turned the corner and saw Joel leaning up against the wall in a brown suit with another man you didn't recognize but assumed was Patrick's lawyer, you instantly felt relief. When his eyes locked with yours and he gave you a small smile, you felt even calmer.

You could do this.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" Madeline said next to you. Glancing through the window in the door, you saw Patrick sitting at the table in a rumpled jumpsuit, his handcuffed arms resting on the table as he stared down as his fingernails. You nodded and looked at Patrick's lawyer.

"Does he have the divorce papers, or do you?"

The lawyer gave you a polite smile before replying "I do, miss."

You nodded before taking a deep breath, and glancing at Joel one more time to remind yourself why you were doing this, you twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Patrick lifted his head up when you walked in and gave you half a smile, but you just shut the door behind you and walked to the other end of the table, as far away from him as you possibly could get, and sat down.

He stared down the table at you, giving you his most charming persona, the side he always brought out when he knew he had gone too far and wanted to make amends. You folded your hands calmly on the table and tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to speak. Minutes ticked by, inching closer and closer to your trial time as you waited, refusing to be the one who bent first.

"New clothes?" he finally asked, and you quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, looks like you got some new clothes, too."

You patted yourself on the back for the jab, but you didn't show a hint of the smugness you were feeling when you saw a quick scowl flit across his face.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his hair and lifting his hands up in mock defeat. "You win."

"What did I win?" you said with a frown.

"This," he said, motioning between the two of you. "You want outta this so badly, fine. I'll sign the papers. I'll leave you alone."

"Great," you said, trying to keep the tremble from your voice.

"You gotta drop these charges, though, baby. This shit could get me killed, you know that?"

"Don't call me baby."

He sat forward suddenly, making you flinch. "What the hell do you want me to call you, then?"

You took a steadying breath and glanced at the door, catching Joel's eye before looking back at Patrick.

"I'm not dropping the charges."

He shrugged and dropped his hands loudly on the table. "Then I ain't signing the papers."

You looked at Joel again. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of you and you wondered if he could hear anything through the door.

"What about the charges against Joel? Would you let it go and sign if I dropped the charges?" you asked quietly, and that caught Patrick's interest. He smirked and folded his hands on the table.

"Oh, no. Can't do that. I got your boyfriend right where I want him. Got a rockstar witness that'll help me take him for all he's got. Hope that kid of his is smart, she's gonna need to get a scholarship for college. Daddy ain't gonna have two dimes to rub together when I'm done with him."

Your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you stared at Patrick across the table, doing your best to rein in your anger and not say something stupid.

"You don't have shit against him," you spat, and true to form, he couldn't help himself. He just had to show his hand.

"Bullshit. Got that girl he was on a date with that night at the bar willing to testify he had it out for me, that he was obsessed with you and would do anything to get rid of me," he sneered, looking quite pleased with himself.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You knew Nikki was pissed, but this was going too far.

"Then it doesn't sound like we have anything else to talk about," you said, standing up. You made your way to the door, passing by his chair, when he spoke once again.

"You're not gonna win, you know. They don't put cops in jail. Juries feel too guilty, knowing how dangerous it is."

You looked down at him, finally seeing him for who he really was: a pathetic, desperate, sad excuse for a man. No matter how long it took for Madeline to finalize your divorce, you would do it the right way. You've suffered for years, a few more months wouldn't kill you.

And then you would be free.

"Hope you're willing to bet your life on that," you said before turning on your heel and swinging open the door.

Joel was at your side in an instant, following you and Madeline down the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Do I even want to ask?" Madeline said over her shoulder.

"You were right. He wanted me to drop the charges in exchange for signing the papers," you told her, then glanced up at Joel by your side. "I said no. We're doing this the right way."

"Good," they both said at the same time. Your hand itched to reach out and hold his, but you knew you couldn't, so you settled for gently brushing your knuckles against the back of his hand and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

When you entered the courtroom, which was much smaller than you expected, your eyes immediately drifted around to the scattered few people seated in the spectator chairs. You had completely forgotten about your mother, and seeing her sitting there, on the other side of the room as your cousin, with her hair pulled back tightly and wearing a navy blue dress you hadn't seen before, sent you into shock. Fortunately, she stared straight ahead, avoiding your penetrating gaze, so you looked away and made eye contact with your cousin, who gave you a tight smile and a thumbs up.

Then you heard Joel suck in air next to you and you glanced up at him, following his gaze to Michelle, who was seated a few rows behind the plaintiff's table.

"What's she doing here?" you tried to mutter under your breath.

"Don't know," he replied quietly, turning his focus away from her.

Madeline swung open the doors for you to step through and take a seat behind the desk, where she joined you and began to open up her briefcase and spread out all her files on the table. Joel slid into the row of chairs right behind you, and if you took a deep breath, you could smell him. Gone was the putrid cologne, the only thing he ever had in common with Patrick besides his profession. All that you could smell was him. His natural, masculine scent mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and some hair product. A smell you had grown to love and crave.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed you had less than five minutes before the trial began. More people began to stream in. Witnesses on both sides, some you recognized and some you didn't. A few cops that you knew were close with Patrick on the force sat together in full regalia, no doubt trying to win favor with the jury with their choice in clothes, just like you.

You had a chance to look at Joel just one more time, one fleeting smile and wink from him before the doors swung open. Patrick and his lawyer marched up to their table, both of them avoiding looking in your direction as they got settled in just in time for the bailiff to announce for the room to rise, and moments later the judge and jury walked in.

You were holding up better than you expected. All of these months of preparation finally paid off. You were more confident after each witness Madeline brought up to the stand. She started with a couple old co-workers of yours, who didn't have much to say other than they had asked you a few times about your bruises and you had made up excuses, but they always suspected something else was going on. Patrick's lawyer stood up and objected when they hinted at your husband being the cause, and the judge agreed. Madeline backed off her line of questioning and once she was satisfied, announced no further questions before sitting down. Patrick's lawyer - Beckett Kennedy, you learned - chose not to question them further.

Next was your cousin, Mary, who testified she knew Patrick was hurting you, but as Beckett would clarify for the jury later under cross examination, had no proof other than your word. She explained how you continually went to her for help, that she helped you get on birth control without Patrick's knowledge, and how you confided in her the night before you fled to Texas.

The next witness in your defense was Carol, the doctor Joel had brought you to after Patrick's most recent assault.

That was when things got rocky.

There were blown up images of your injuries being projected in front of the entire room, including some that blurred out your privates, but you still found to be absolutely humiliating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to show too much emotion as Carol explained in great detail all of the injuries you had sustained not only that day, but historically as well. Madeline called into evidence your old medical reports from the hospitals back in Philadelphia, and Carol gave her expert opinion on each one, explaining in layman's terms what each and every note meant so that the jury could understand.

Every single cut, bruise, laceration, and broken bone was discussed as you stared down at your hands in your lap, your cheeks burning. You heard Joel shift behind you in his seat and you tried to take a deep breath, tried to catch his scent to calm you, but you were too far away or maybe it wasn't strong enough and the urge to turn around and bury your face in his neck for comfort was overwhelming.

Finally, Madeline finished up with Carol, thanking her for her time before sitting down next to you. She gave you a wink, trying to reassure you everything was going smoothly, and you gave her a small smile in return.

Beckett then got up to cross examine Carol. He tried to poke holes in her medical expertise, tried to question her knowledge about sexual assault and if she could truly be considered an expert in that particular field of study when she was just a general practitioner but Carol sat tall and told the court she was an OBGYN for ten years and that she very much had a vast amount of knowledge in the area of female anatomy.

After Beckett insultingly tried to suggest pap smears and the occasional birth could hardly make Carol an expert in trauma, she was excused.

"We have time for one more witness, Maddy," Judge Dean, an older man with bright blue eyes and absolutely no hair on his head, announced before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"The prosecution calls Sheriff Joel Miller to the stand."

After Joel raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, he sat down and adjusted his blazer, then glanced at Madeline expectantly. She gave him a warm smile and started slow. She thanked him for traveling all the way to Austin to give his testimony, asked him to verify how long he had been town sheriff, and asked him to give an approximate idea of how many incidents he had encountered in his tenure for domestic or sexual abuse.

"So it sounds like you're no stranger to this type of crime."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

"The plaintiff didn't call the police when she was assaulted, is that correct?" she asked.

"That's correct."

"Can you explain how you came to find out she was hurt?"

Joel took a deep breath and glanced quickly at you before looking back at Madeline. "She works as a waitress at the diner in town. See her almost every day for lunch. One day she called in sick, I had a hunch somethin' was wrong and her apartment's on the way back to work, so I stopped to do a wellness check on her."

"What caused you to have a hunch, sheriff?"

"The day before, I saw the plaintiff and defendant at a coffee shop. I witnessed the defendant put his hands on the plaintiff in an aggressive manner and it raised some red flags," he explained calmly.

"And when you went to her apartment to do a wellness check, what did you see?" Madeline asked, looking up from her legal pad with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. You dropped your gaze to your lap. You could remember that day vividly. The shame and embarrassment and the pain all came rushing back, and you tried to blink the tears away as you focused on Joel's answer.

"It was clear the plaintiff had been attacked," he began, and only because you knew him so well, you could hear the slight strain in his voice. "She had a gash on her forehead, a split lip, a bruise on her cheek and scratches all down her neck."

Madeline hummed as she picked up the remote for the projector and flipped through the images that Carol had gone over. She stopped on a picture of your face with wounds that matched Joel's description and you noticed out of the corner of your eye a few jurors shake their heads sadly.

"Are these images the injuries you're describing, sheriff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"After you performed the wellness check, what happened?" Madeline asked, setting down the remote but leaving the picture of your beat up face on the monitor. You knew she was doing it to garner sympathy and help paint the picture Joel was describing, but it made your stomach turn.

"I encouraged the plaintiff to seek medical treatment and press charges."

"And that is when the plaintiff visited Dr. Carol Parker, correct?"

"That's correct."

"I noticed at the same time, the defendant was in holding, is that true?" Madeline asked, and Joel nodded.

"Yes."

"Why was he arrested, sheriff?"

"He was drunk and disorderly in public the night before, so I took him in to sleep it off."

"Were those the only charges against him?" she asked.

"No. He also punched me when I was attempting to make the arrest, so he was also charged with assaulting a police officer."

"And when the plaintiff came to the station to give her statement, that was when the additional charges were filed, correct?" Madeline asked, picking up the remote to switch to a slide of the long list of charges against Patrick.

"Correct."

"I also see here a restraining order was filed to protect the plaintiff."

"Correct."

"And did the defendant obey the restraining order?"

"No, he did not," Joel said, straightening up in his seat. "He showed up at the plaintiff's place of employment and tried to intimidate her. Threatened her." You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering that night when Tommy and Thor stood up for you. How scared you were, how hopeless you felt and then Joel arrived, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"And the police were called then?"

"Yes. Maria Miller, one of the owners of the diner, called down to the station and spoke with my deputy, who then called me on his way down to the diner and I met up with him there."

"To arrest the defendant for violating the restraining order?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And did you?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Not that evening, no. He couldn't be found," Joel said. You stiffened in your seat, bracing for what was coming next.

"Can you tell me what happened after you arrived at the diner?"

Joel swallowed and glanced briefly in your direction again before answering. "I took the plaintiff back to her apartment so she could get some things and stay elsewhere for the night. We were worried the defendant would try to harm her and thought it best she stay away from her residence until he was apprehended," he said, pausing for a moment. "But when we got there, it was clear the defendant had already broken in-"

"Objection," Beckett announced suddenly.

"Sustained."

"Allow me to rephrase," Madeline said, pushing off her desk. "What did you witness when you arrived back at the plaintiff's apartment?"

"It appeared the place had been broken into," Joel began. "Her belongings were destroyed. There were holes in the drywall, dish-ware broken, graffiti on the walls, and what smelled like urine in her bed."

Madeline used her remote to flip to images of your apartment from that night, and when the one of your bathroom came onto the screen, you heard a low murmur from the people behind you.

"According to my notes, you sent out a pair of officers to process the scene the next morning, along with a forensic analyst, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to draw your attention to exhibit 6C, the forensics report," Madeline said, clicking the remote to another slide where a document appeared with the label Exhibit 6C at the bottom. "What can you tell me about this report, sheriff?"

"Objection. The witness can hardly be considered a forensics expert, your honor," Beckett said, standing up.

"I believe he's proven he has many years of experience and can answer basic questions," Madeline argued. "I will wait until tomorrow to question the forensics analyst in more detail, but I believe the sheriff has the ability to answer one simple question today."

The judge looked back and forth between Madeline and Beckett as he considered his answer.

"Be careful, counselor," he warned Madeline, then turned to Joel. "Go ahead."

"The DNA taken from the mattress matched the sample we took from the defendant at the station, so we brought additional charges against him for breaking and entering once he was arrested."

"And when did you finally arrest him, sheriff?"

"The following day."

"Can you please describe for the court how and where you found the defendant?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk again. You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap as you listened.

"We found him in a crack house with some locals and a couple prostitutes."

"Did he resist arrest?"

"No, this time he was too high and passed out-"

"Objection!" Beckett yelled. "Speculation, your honor."

"Sustained," the judge said, frowning at Joel, but Joel just kept his gaze trained on Madeline.

"No further questions, your honor," Madeline said, turning on her heel to sit back down next to you.

"Your witness," the judge said with a nod in Beckett's direction, and a smug smile spread across his face before he stood up. He paced in front of the bench for a few moments, trying to build up the anticipation, and it was working. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you watched him walk slowly back and forth, but Joel appeared to be perfectly calm as he waited for his first question.

When he stopped pacing and you saw the look on Beckett's face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was the moment he had been waiting for. The bombshell. Their only chance at swaying the jury in their favor thus far, and he was ready to strike.

"Sheriff, have you ever had sex with the plaintiff?"

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 4] Car Ride

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Talks of Abortion

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji tries to hand you the bouquet of flowers, but you don’t take them from his hands. Your eyes linger on them, and while it’s a beautiful arrangement, you don’t want to take them. For some reason, you feel that if you take them, he’ll believe you’re accepting to try and work things out which you aren’t willing to do. Even though maybe you should.

You turn your head when you see Shiu drive off, and you roll your eyes. Toji clears his throat and he assures you, “I’ll drive you home.”

“I have to buy a mattress.” You inform him, and he slowly nods his head. He doesn’t mind, you guess. You still can’t help but ask the question, “What about your job?”

“I can leave early, it doesn’t matter.” He responds, and you sigh. Suddenly he can leave early but when you begged to have a date night, he was always busy. He’s putting in so much effort now, effort that he should’ve put in before you decided you were going to leave. “Do you wanna go do that now? We can talk while we go shopping for that.”

“I guess…” You search around to see if you find Shiu’s car in the distance. You don’t really want to talk to Toji, but you also have no other way to go home other than by walking or taxi. Plus you need his help right now. You look around to find his car, and you find it a long way down the road. 

You begin to walk to his car, and he follows behind, running so he can open the door for you. You don’t thank him when he does, you just get in the passenger seat, and you side eye him when he doesn’t shut the door. He throws the flowers on your lap and when he shuts the door, you toss them to the backseat. When he gets into the driver’s seat he asks, “Why don’t you want the flowers?”

“What’s the point of them? Aren’t we getting divorced?” You respond, and he tries to take a deep breath. He turns on the car and pulls out of his parking spot, driving somewhere. You know this route, and it’s not where he’s supposed to take you. You don’t speak about it, it’s your own fault. You weren’t seriously expecting Toji of all people to be cooperative, were you?

“Shiu told me you got a nice little apartment…” He speaks up when he stops at a red light. You hum in response, not really trying to engage in a conversation. You lean your head back, resting it and shutting your eyes. You just want this to be over. Never in your life did you expect to dread being in a car next to Toji. The love of your life sits next to you, and you can’t wait to get out. To run and never have to see him again.

You open your eyes and see that you’re not driving back to Toji’s apartment. He’s taking a detour. At least you won’t have to take a taxi. Your eyes shift to him, his eyes are focused on the road. His hands clench the steering wheel while he bites down on his lip. His eyes finally glance at you, and you avert your gaze to the road that’s in front of you. “So um… What do you do?”

“Nothing cool.” You answer. You hear him exhale. Maybe he’ll stop asking dumb questions to fill up the silence. You’ve gotten accustomed to a quiet car ride, every time that you tried to speak up you’d be shot down. You don’t understand why he’s trying to change now– He already signed the papers. 

“Will you still show up for Megumi?” He asks, and you take a moment to think about it. Should you really? Toji constantly reminded you that you weren’t Megumi’s mother in any way, why should you try? But even then, you and Megumi grew close and formed a bond. Megumi shouldn’t have to pay for his father’s mistakes. You don’t give him a definitive answer though, simply an,

“I’ll try.”

“Why are you like this? Can’t you see that I’m trying?” He finally snaps, making you scoff. You cross your arms, debating if this is even worth engaging. He just wants a reaction out of you. Something that is longer than two words. “I’m just thinking that you wanted a divorce because you’re seeing someone else. If you actually loved me, you would at least try to work this out.”

He succeeds. He gets the reaction that he wants. You’re seething with his words and you yell, “I’ve been the only one trying this entire marriage, Toji! Not even these past two years, our entire relationship! Do you think I just came to this decision overnight? Do you think just a couple days of you trying will make up for five years of your neglect? It’s funny that you’re the one talking about cheating when you–”

“Here you go again with the same fucking shit! That happened years ago and you don’t let me forget. You should’ve just left me then!” He raises his voice as well, frustrated with this whole situation.

“Then why the fuck are you so upset that I’m leaving you now? Tell me, Toji. Like this you won’t have to hear me complain about it!” You respond, and he has to pull over into a plaza to park. It’s best if you get out here and call a taxi. You’ll order a mattress online, and sleep on the floor for the time being. When he puts the car in park and the doors unlock, and just as you’re about to open the car door, he locks them. You hate his car because his side is the only one that has controls to lock and unlock the car.

“That was years ago… I’m trying to become a better man, please. Give me a chance.” He sounds vulnerable, and part of you wants to comfort him. You love him more than anything and anyone, you’re willing to work it out. But for your sake… And for your baby’s sake, you have to leave Toji. He claims that he’ll be better but he won’t. 

“How long will it take for you to go back to being him? The same man that couldn’t even care to share how his day was when I asked him. You claimed that you’d change a couple times, Toji. You did change for a couple of days, but you always went back to your cold demeanor.” Your voice is breaking, and you can’t afford to start crying in front of him. You won’t let him see you so weak again, “I’ve seen the way you looked at her, and I want someone to look at me the same way. I deserve that. I know that you can’t be that same man for me, and I’ve come to respect that. The same way I want you to respect me leaving. I don’t want you to reach out to me just for the sole purpose of getting back together. We need time apart.”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to think of what he’s going to say next. He won’t admit that he’s at fault for all of this. Toji shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He tries to be rational– To be the mature adult that he’s supposed to be. He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I’m going to unlock the doors. If you get out of the car, I won’t talk to you ever again. All I can say is good luck in your life.”

“That’s not possible.” You mutter, but he hears it loud and clear. Are you insinuating that he’s a weak man? That’s what he’s hearing at the very least, and Toji hates it.

“What are you trying to say? Are you saying that I’ll come crawling back to you? That you’re irreplaceable or something like that, because I have some news for you–” He raises his voice and you feel the tears well up in your eyes. You swallow the lump that comes to your throat before you yell,

“I’m pregnant, Toji! That’s what I’m trying to say, I’m pregnant.” You watch him as his eyes go wide, his breath getting caught up. You’re waiting for him to say the worst, knowing that he doesn’t want this. “I don’t need your help though. I’ll be fine. If you don’t want a part in any of this, then when I exit the car, you’ll be dead to me the same way I’ll be dead to you.”

A smile comes to his face, and you feel sick. You know he isn’t happy that he’s having a baby. You want to fool yourself into thinking that he is, but you know he’s not. He doesn’t care about that. He’s just thinking about– He grabs your hands and brings them up to his lips, kissing them gently before he puts them around his face. “Please stay. For our baby.”

He’s thinking about trapping you. Like this you won’t leave his side. He’s not thinking about all the what ifs and the struggles that come with pregnancy and a child. He doesn’t want this for the right reasons, and you hate it. His face inches closer to yours, and he’s about to kiss you but you pull away.

“Open the car door.” You tell him, your voice stern. His brows furrow.

“We have to talk about this.” He says, and you shake your head. You have to take a deep breath so he doesn’t hear your voice. You don’t want him to hear you on the verge of tears even though your watery eyes are the dead give away.

“No, you think that I’m going to stay with you because I’m pregnant. But I’m not. I don’t have to rely on you.” You respond. 

“Why don’t you just get an abortion then?” He asks, and that’s when the tears that are in your eyes fall. He bites his tongue, quickly regretting the words that just left his lips. “I mean… If you’re so set on being alone, do you really want to have my baby? You know that means we’re stuck together in a sense.”

“No it doesn’t.” You wipe away the tears that managed to escape. You try to reach over to unlock the car door, and when you manage to unlock it, he doesn’t waste a second to lock it back up. He pushes your hand away. “Just forget that I told you anything. You don’t want another kid, and I’m not forcing you to be a father. I can be a mother by myself.”

“For how long have you known?” He questions, and you take a deep breath.

“I just found out.” You confess. 

“And you decided that you’re going to be a single mother? Do you know how fucking hard it is to raise a child by yourself? You haven’t even thought about it for a day.” He points out. You bite down on your lip and think about what you’ll say next.

“I mean… I handled all of Megumi’s issues myself even when I wasn’t supposed to be a parent. And I got used to the idea that if I ended up pregnant, you’d end up leaving. So I don’t really need to think about it more.” You share, and he scoffs.

“You really think I would just leave you?” He questions and you stay silent. That’s his response. “I would’ve never done that to you.”

“I don’t know Toji, you made it clear that the idea of having kids with me was a nightmare and that you only had money and time for Megumi.” You remind him, and Toji finds himself speechless. You sigh. You really hate this. “I’m telling you because it’s my duty. If you want to come around, great. If you don’t, also great. Me and my baby will do just fine.”

“It’s my baby too.” He says. “I guess… You should do whatever you think it’s best. But if we’re not getting back together, you should get an abortion.”

“I’m not doing that, Toji. I’ve always wanted a baby, and this is my chance.” You respond, even though part of you agrees with him. “Just… Let me out.”

“I’m getting you that mattress and then taking you home.” He replies. You take a deep breath watching as he switches the gear to drive. “Then we’re going to talk about this.”

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 6

A collaboration with the incredible and amazing @munson-blurbs 💜

Summary: It’s your first official date with Eddie, and what’s almost as exciting as that is seeing how the boys react to the news

Note: I will never get used to the kind comments and sweet words you send me over this series. It truly makes me so incredibly happy. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Warnings: smut, p in v, mentions of oral, age gap, older!eddie, Eddie’s breeding kink should be a given at this point tbh

Words: 8.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie knocks on the door of the trailer he grew up in, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet. It seems like an eternity before his uncle opens it, a huge grin on his face at the sight of his nephew. 

“Ed!” he says, holding the door ajar so Eddie can walk in. “What brings you back down to Forest Hills?”

“Can’t a guy just visit his uncle without needing something?” Eddie teases, leaning against the counter, careful not to get any grease stains on it. “I, uh, did need to talk to you, though.”

A concerned frown tugs at the corners of Wayne’s lips. “Y’okay? The boys good?”

Eddie nods, all-too aware of Wayne’s omission of Brittany. “We’re all fine,” he clarifies, “but Brittany and I are definitely splitting up. I filed the divorce papers, then she filed custody papers.”

“Shit,” Wayne mutters, rubbing his palm over his coarse gray beard. “‘M sorry, kid. This kinda stuff ain’t easy, even when you know you wanna end things.” He puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes. “You’ll find the right one for you.”

Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, and he has to avert his gaze from his uncle. “I, um…I think I already did,” he sheepishly admits, massaging the back of his neck to relax his nerves. 

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up, but he can’t say he’s all that surprised. “The babysitter?”

“How did you—”

“I may be an old man, but my eyesight is just fine,” Wayne jokes, “and I could see the way you looked at her at Ryan’s birthday party last summer. Like you damn near worshiped the ground she walked on.”

Eddie lets out a nervous chuckle and nods his head. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel about her.” 

“She’s good with the boys,” Wayne says. “It was nice to see.” Nice for them to have a maternal figure who loves them is what they both think but don’t say aloud. 

“They love her,” Eddie agrees. He opens his mouth to continue, but his uncle cuts him off.

“So do you.” It’s not a question. It’s a knowing statement from the man who knows Eddie better than anyone. It didn’t take much observation for Wayne to see the possibilities of what could be. Of what are, now. 

“I really do,” Eddie answers. The lovesick expression on his face makes Wayne smile. He’s not seen that look on his nephew’s face since he was in high school. Even then, Wayne thinks, he didn’t light up quite like this. 

“Take it slow though, boy.” Wayne didn’t give a shit that Eddie was in his 30’s now; he’s still going to call him “boy” because he’ll be Wayne’s boy until the day he dies. “You don’t want to rush into anything. That’ll just be trouble for everyone involved.”

“I know,” Eddie says. “I, uh, actually want to take her on our first date this Friday.”

“Do the boys know?” Wayne asks.

“Not yet. But they will. I'm not going to lie to them about where I'm going and who I’ll be with. They get that from their mom, and I will make damn sure they know I’ll never lie to them.”

“Good man,” Wayne says with an approving nod of his head. “Can’t imagine their mom feels too keen about watching the boys while you go on a date, though.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t give a shit how she felt about it. But fortunately for everyone, she’ll be out of town. So, that’s another reason I stopped by. Wondered if you could watch the kids. It’d be up at the house still since I’m staying there while Britt’s gone.”

Wayne’s face lights up. “You know I never need an excuse to spend time with my grandkids,” he chuckles. “Now I just gotta figure out what kinda candy I’m gonna get ‘em hopped up on just in time for you to get home.”

“You’re the best,” Eddie says gratefully, pulling his uncle in for a quick hug. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne appears to brush off the compliment, but he’s beaming on the inside. Being a grandpa is his favorite thing in the world. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, anyway. Made a little something for those two rugrats.” He disappears into his room—what used to be Eddie’s room—and comes back with two of his woodworks: a miniature bookshelf with an R carved on the side, and a small box with an L on the lid. “Figured Ryan could use another place for his books, and Luke can put his Hot Wheels in here.”

“Someone just earned himself a #1 Grandpa mug for his birthday.”

“Hey, rugrats.”

Eddie strolls out of his bedroom—former bedroom, and down the hallway. The muffled sounds of some animated movie he knows he’s seen before become louder the closer he gets to the living room. Both boys are sitting at a Scooby-Doo themed table and chair set that Luke had gotten for his last birthday. They’re sitting too close to the television, but Eddie decides to let that slide for now. As he gets closer, he sees the boys are drawing, peacefully sharing a single crayon box for once. 

“Yeah, Daddy?” Ryan asks without looking up from his art. Eddie picks the remote up off the couch and turns the tv off. Luke’s little head snaps up and his curls bounce as he swivels his body to stare in his dad’s direction. 

“Hey,” he protests.

“Just for a minute, calm down.” Eddie sets the remote down on the coffee table and comes to stand between the boys’ chairs. He’s not entirely sure what it is they’re drawing, but there’s a brown patch that Eddie thinks is the dog that Luke is always drawing and wishing for. Someday, pal. I promise. “I want to talk to you both about something.”

“What is it?” Ryan asks, scribbling furiously with a red crayon. 

“Hey, can we take a break from the drawing for a bit?” Eddie drops a hand to Ryan’s shoulder and his oldest son looks up at him for the first time.

“Why?”

“Just so I can talk to you for a minute.”

Ryan sets his crayons down and turns on his seat to face his father better. Luke copies his older brother’s actions and the brown crayon that was in his hand rolls towards the middle of the table. 

“Are we in trouble?” Luke asks.

“No,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to let the two of you know that I have a date on Friday night.”

Both of Eddie’s sons just stare at him. For a moment, he wonders if he actually spoke out loud or just imagined it in his head. Luke seems completely unfazed by the news, like he just wants to get back to his coloring. Ryan, on the other hand, looks a little skeptical. Eddie was prepared for this reaction, but he knows that as soon as the boys know who his date is with, they’ll be jumping for joy—quite possibly literally. 

“A date?” Ryan asks. “Like, with a girl?”

“A lady,” Luke corrects. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, now truly getting nervous for the first time. Ryan continues to stare at him, and Eddie isn’t sure how to read the usually open little boy. 

“So,” Ryan starts, “does that mean we get to spend time with—”

“Grandpa Wayne is watching you.” 

“Why?” Luke whines, obviously bothered by the fact that someone who is not you would be watching them. That says a lot to Eddie because he knows how much they love Wayne. It takes most of Eddie’s nerves away, hearing that the boys’ first instinct was that they get to spend time with you if he’s going out. Actual excitement bubbles up within him and it’s almost impossible to keep the smile off of his face. A part of him almost wants to keep the boys in suspense—this is just too good. 

“Because,” Eddie finally says, “I’m taking her on the date.” 

Eddie watches their faces, eager for the reaction. Ryan processes the information first and lets out a gasp. Luke takes a few seconds longer, but then he’s standing up from his chair—knocking it over in the process—and his eyes widen as far as they physically can. 

“You two are going on a date?” Ryan asks, voice high and excited. “Really?”

“Really,” Eddie confirms with a chuckle. 

“Oh my gosh,” Luke gushes, his small hands coming up to run through his curls. “Yes!”

The obvious love and excitement these two have towards you only further solidifies an idea that has been floating around his head lately. That you and he were meant to be together. Eddie knew that his sons had a far better childhood than he had, but he could still see the struggles they had living with a mom who never cared like she should. Eddie tried to make up for it, but there’s only so much one parent can take on from the other. He’d wonder if it was some bad karma of his that his kids didn’t get to have the happy little family that Eddie always dreamed of. But now there’s you. And all three Munson men adore you to the moon and back. And what's crazier to Eddie is that you love him back just as much. The boys? Sure, they’re easy to love. But you love three of them as a whole. Eddie can’t wait to tell you how they reacted to this news.

“You guys are happy about this, I take it?” Eddie asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan says, launching himself out of his chair and wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist. 

Eddie lets out an oof as the weight of his son knocks him back a step. But he’s quickly returning the hug.

“Our super-secret plan worked!” Luke says.

Raising his eyebrows, Eddie turns his head to look at his youngest son. 

“Secret?!”

“Okay, how about this?” You hold up a little black dress for your roommate to inspect. 

Jess tilts her head in consideration. “Too clubby,” she determines, and you roll your eyes with a dejected sigh. “Think…romantic but sexy.”

“Fine,” you grumble, rummaging through your closet. “Does this one pass the test?” You show her a floral lilac dress with a small slit up the side. 

“Perfect!” Jess determines, grinning as she grabs a pair of strappy wedges from the closet floor. “Wear these with that, and he’ll be putty in your hands.” She pauses. “Actually, he basically already is. But, still, you’re gonna look hot.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, as well as the thought of Eddie turning into mush when he sees you. “Yeah, yeah. Let me get dressed; this show ain’t free.”

“It is for Eddie!” she trills, but leaves and closes the door behind her. 

You finish applying your makeup just as Eddie rings the buzzer. “Jess, I’ll be back later!” you call out. “Thanks again for the wardrobe help.”

“No problem! Hope you get laid!”

Same, you think, opening the door to find your handsome date standing in front of you. “Wow,” you breathe out. He’s wearing a dark green button-down shirt, black slacks, and his signature leather jacket. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. Your palms become slick with nervous perspiration at the mere sight of him. 

“Wow, yourself,” Eddie smiles, pulling you in by your waist and kissing your lips. It starts off gentle, but he gradually deepens it, grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze. “If we don’t leave now, I’m not gonna let you leave the bedroom,” he growls in your ear, punctuating his statement with a quick smack to the soft flesh of your bottom. 

“Let’s get going, then,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to the car. 

You’re filled with anticipation; the secrecy of the evening is driving you insane. “How long until we’re at this mystery location?” you ask, trying to keep your eagerness at bay. 

“Soon.”

“Okay, but what’s ‘soon’?” you press. “Like, five minutes? Half an hour?”

Eddie chuckles. “Jesus, you sound like Luke.”

Your jaw drops and you cross your arms over your chest. “Did you just compare me to your five-year-old son?”

“Are we there yet?” Eddie exaggeratedly mimics in a high-pitched voice. 

“I do not sound like that!” you protest through your giggles. 

“I do not sound like that!” he echoes, keeping the obnoxious tone. 

“Now who’s acting like a five-year-old?” you retort, laughing as he scoffs at you, putting your mind at ease. It’s Eddie, your Eddie, and no matter what he’s planned, you know it’ll just make you fall further in love with him. 

Eventually, Eddie pulls onto a highway, and you head in a direction you’re unfamiliar with. All it does is make you even more curious, but you know that Eddie isn’t going to be answering any questions. As if it’s his way of telling you not to say anything, he turns on the radio and fiddles with a dial until he comes to a song he likes. His hand doesn’t go back on the wheel, though. He reaches over and takes one of your hands into his own. Butterfly wings stir inside of you as he brings the back of your hand up to his lips. After pressing a few kisses to the skin there, he laces his fingers with yours and rests them comfortably on the center console between you. 

It feels like forever until you reach your destination. According to the clock on the truck’s dash, it was just under half an hour, though. Gentleman as always, Eddie comes around to your door to open it for you. He even offers his hand to you to help you out of the car. Once he’s shut the door behind you, he doesn’t let go of your hand again. Honestly, it wouldn’t bother you if he never let it go. 

The parking lot of this mystery date spot is pretty crowded on this Friday night. As the two of you get closer, you inspect the large red brick building. It’s old enough looking to be charming, but not derelict or decrepit. Green foliage adorns the outsides, a few benches every couple of feet—mostly occupied at the moment. The other people you see are dressed at the same level as both you and Eddie so the little worry that you’d be over or under-dressed finally fades away. 

Above the front door, there’s a white and gold sign that says “Scott & Ollo’s.” Eddie holds the heavy brown door open for you and, regrettably, you have to let go of his hand to step inside. You don’t have to go long without his touch, however, as he steps up behind you as soon as you both enter, his hands resting lightly on your waist. The first thing that you register is the music. It’s loud—not overbearingly so, but enough where you can tell its live music instead of a recording being played over the PA system. Next, you take in the waiters in their all black attire that are buzzing between tables covered in white tablecloths and an array of foods—that smell delicious, you also notice.

“Hello,” the hostess greets you and Eddie as you walk up to her podium.

“Hi,” Eddie says, keeping one hand on your waist as he speaks to her. “Should have a reservation for two. Under the name ‘Munson.’”

Your eyes are flitting around the space and Eddie watches you with a fond smile on his face as the hostess searches for his name. 

“Ah, here we are. Right this way, please,” the hostess says. 

Eddie once again laces your fingers together and guides the two of you through the decently filled restaurant. As you walk, you notice that the restaurant is arranged in a circular fashion, and that people at the tables keep looking in towards the center of the room. You try to crane your neck to see around some of the patrons, but you’re unable to see what they see. The hostess leads you down a few steps that lead down to another landing where tables are laid out. From here, it’s easier to see what has everyone’s attention. The middle of the restaurant has a live band playing and a dance floor that a few couples currently occupy. 

“Here you are,” the hostess says as she presents your table. She sets a menu down at each place setting as Eddie waits for you to sit in your seat so he can push it in for you. “Your waiter will be Harris and he’ll be right with you.”

“Thank you,” you say before she steps away. Now seated, you let your eyes take in everything a little bit more. The small lanterns on the middle of every table, some women looking longingly at the dance floor while the men they’re with look terrified of it. At the grand chandelier that hangs over the whole space, the crystals on it reflecting the light all around. “Eddie, this place is beautiful. Where did you find it?”

“A buddy of mine from high school proposed to his girlfriend here. I’ve never been but they both said it was incredible. So far, they’re right.”

“And are you actually going to dance with me?” you ask with a small giggle as you pick up your menu. 

“Getting to hold you close to my body while we listen to slow music? Hell yeah.”

You shake your head fondly at how unromantic he makes it sound; but you know that’s just him messing around. There’s no way he would’ve chosen this place to go if he didn’t want to have a romantic evening and dance with you. 

“Should we get some wine?” Eddie asks. 

“Sure, but you’ll have to order it.”

“Why would—oh, right,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “Sometimes I forget your age.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you ask.

“I don’t really think of it one way or the other. You’re just…you. My person. Not my person who is twelve years younger than me, just my person.”

His words have your heart picking up speed, and it’s quickly pumping heat up towards your face. His person. It felt not too long ago you could only dream about Eddie ever saying that to you. 

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and you look up to see what’s so funny. But he’s just smiling at you.

“What?” you ask.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since we walked in the door,” Eddie says. You hadn’t noticed, honestly. But now that he points it out, you can feel the tightness in your cheek muscles at the long-held grin.

“You just make me really happy,” you tell him, love practically radiating out of your every pore. Eddie sets his menu down and reaches across the table to take both of your hands in his own.

“Baby, you’re it for me. Always. Don’t forget that, okay?”

The only response you can give is a nod, as you feel the emotion welling up behind your eyes. After taking a moment and clearing your throat, you think you’re able to speak.

“You’re my forever.”

Harris comes and takes your orders: Eddie gets a New York strip, medium rare, and you choose the chicken florentine. They’re delivered on intricately garnished plates; so beautiful that you’re almost afraid to eat. 

“Been awhile since I’ve been to a restaurant that didn’t serve a Happy Meal,” he jokes, dragging his knife through the tender cut of meat. 

“At least you have your kids as an excuse,” you tease him. “Before that, you were just a grown man eating a very tiny pouch of fries.”

Eddie laughs, popping a bite of the steak into his mouth. “Speaking of those two,” he starts, “I told them.” About us, is what he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t have to. 

You offer him a nervous glance. “What…were they okay with it?”

“Oh, yeah. They were only upset that you weren’t watching them until I told them that you were my date.” He chuckles at the memory of their excited little faces, leaning in to add, “and did you know that their ploy to get us together was a secret?”

Clapping a hand over your mouth to keep your giggles from escaping, you widen your eyes. “I think we can cross ‘CIA agent’ off of their list of future career choices.”

“And professional poker player,” he agrees, running his thumb across the back of your hand. “But I really can’t believe my luck. Y’know, how much they love you, and how much you love them.”

“Of course I do,” you tell him. “Even if you and I weren’t together, I’d adore your boys. They’re great kids, Eddie. The best. Because of you.”

Eddie stands slightly to reach over and kiss your forehead. “I love you so fucking much,” he declares. Part of him wishes he had a ring so he could propose right now, make you his forever. 

Once you’ve finished eating, Eddie’s by your side and offering his hand. 

“May I have this dance?” he asks. He keeps his tone serious, but he waggles his eyebrows as he says it. 

“Such a gentleman,” you smile, placing your palm in his. You can feel every crease and callous, and you’re immediately overtaken with a sense of safety and belonging. “Of course you may.”

He leads you to the dance floor, taking you into his arms. Your left hand rests on his right bicep, and your right hand takes purchase in his left. His free hand is soon pressed to the small of your back so the two of you can sway impossibly close. 

The band plays the opening chords of “Something,” by The Beatles, and your face lights up with joy. 

“I love this song,” you tell him, adjusting your stance so your left hand can travel to the nape of his neck. 

Without missing a beat, Eddie says, “I’ll learn how to play it for you.” Shit, he thinks, I’d go home and figure out the chords right now if I wasn’t on the best date of my life.

You’re not totally convinced, tilting your head in disbelief. “Even though it’s not metal?”

“Only for you, my love.” His response is sincere, and you rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. If you had to take bets, you’d guess that yours was beating in perfect tandem. 

After you’ve finished dancing, you both agree that you’ve worked off some of your delicious dinner and have room to split a decadent dessert. You settle on a piece of cheesecake with cherry topping and Harris serves it to you with two forks. Eddie tuts you when you go to take the first forkful, but when you look at him in confusion, he spears a generous bite of the dessert and holds it up to your lips. A bubbly feeling floats through your body as you open your mouth and accept it from him. It’s amazing how the littlest things Eddie does give you full body reactions. 

Once the cheesecake is devoured and the bill is paid (which Eddie snatched up the moment it hit the table cloth), Eddie offers you his hand and you walk out of the restaurant and into the chilly evening. There are no clouds in the sky, revealing the black canvas dotted with tiny diamond stars and a luminescent moon. You’re so busy taking in the view, you didn’t even realize Eddie shrugged out of his leather jacket until he’s draping it over your shoulders. It’s pure instinct to clutch it tighter around you, wanting Eddie’s scent and essence as close as can be. 

The band can still be heard outside, muffled, but clear enough to tell that they just started playing Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” The two of you are approaching the first row of cars in the parking lot when Eddie tugs on your hand, pulling you to a stop next to him. Before you get the chance to open your mouth and ask what’s wrong, Eddie wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you up against his chest. He takes your left hand in his right and laces your fingers together as he begins to sway from side to side.

“Wanted one more dance with my girl tonight,” Eddie mumbles, giving you a warm smile. 

“Dancing in the moonlight? Who knew you were such a romantic, Munson,” you tease. He leans in and nips at your earlobe, causing you to giggle. 

“You would’ve thought you’d caught on by now,” Eddie retorts, giving your hand a light squeeze. Letting your eyes slip closed, you lean in and rest your head against the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. 

“This is perfect,” you say, tone dreamy and light. 

“You’re the best dance partner I ever had, Sweetheart.”

The words bring a smile to your face, and you press a light kiss against Eddie’s throat before looking up at him. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Course baby,” he replies, his hand that’s on the small of your back tracing patterns over the material of your dress. “You can tell me anything.”

You pick your head up and look at him from beneath your eyelashes. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

That’s all Eddie needs to hear before he’s taking you by the hand and tugging you to the car. 

“Slow down; I’m in heels!”you protest between giggles, but Eddie is not about to waste precious seconds that could be spent inside you. 

You assume he’s going to drive home as fast as he can, which is why you’re more than confused when he opens the back door instead of the front. He slides in and pats his lap with a mischievous grin. 

“In your car?” you balk teasingly, already ducking into the vehicle and draping a leg over his. “Eddie Munson, you’re a little horndog.”

He doesn’t deny it; he simply closes the door and bunches your dress to your hips. You certainly weren’t lying: there are no panties to be found. He inhales sharply at your perfect pussy on display like this for him, and his burgeoning erection twitches behind his fly. “Fuckin…holy shit,” he manages, letting his middle finger graze your glistening folds. “And already wet f’me, hm? Was it my dance moves?” He gently bites your earlobe, and you shiver at the sensation. 

“Was…just you, baby,” you breathe, bringing your lips to his neck and trailing kisses along the side. His hands grip your bare ass, and you use the leverage to grind against the seam of his pants. “What’s got you so worked up?”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckle, finally unfastening it with a relieved sigh. “‘S you. So fucking gorgeous, and all mine.” He whimpers when your fingers brush up against the outline of his cock while you unbutton his pants and tug down his zipper. “Tell me ‘m yours, please, baby.”

“You’re mine,” you whisper in his ear, taking in the new sensation of his cotton boxers on your throbbing clit and rubbing yourself against it needily. “All mine, only mine.”

Instinctively, Eddie finds your hole and slips a finger inside. “Bounce on it,” he instructs, pouting when you shake your head. “Whas’ wrong?” Shit, he thinks, was car sex a bad idea?

But you chase away his worries when you tell him, “Need more. Another finger. You’re too big for just one, Eddie.”

He happily obliges, making you feel full in the second-best way he knows how. With that, you take what you need, holding onto his shoulders as your pussy grips his thick fingers. He’s plunging them in and out of you as you ride them, the two of you working in perfect tandem to bring you to your release. 

Eddie knows every last inch of your body like the back of his hand, and he curls his fingers slightly to drive you over the edge. 

“F-Fuck, ‘m coming!” you moan, and it must be louder than you realize, because Eddie laughs and lets out a sshh. 

“You’re gonna get us caught, pretty thing,” he warns you, but he doesn’t slow his pace. “I’ll have to tell the cops that I just couldn’t help myself; ya looked too damn gorgeous tonight. Had to be inside you.”

The thrill of being discovered has your orgasm crashing over you, and you cry out Eddie’s name as it hits. He removes his fingers from your pussy, popping them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around to lap up your slick. It’s enough to nearly make you cum again. 

“Gotta feel you,” he mutters, taking his cock out of his boxers and into his hand. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, and if you had more room, you’d lean down to lick it off. “Gotta feel you around my dick, sweet girl.”

“Mhm,” you squeak out, aligning yourself over his length and sinking onto it. Inch by inch, you take him inside you as he stretches you in the most delicious way. The thick vein that runs from base to tip is heaven against your walls, and you steal a second to just feel him before you start moving. 

His hands grasp your waist, sinking into the plush of your ass as he helps you ride him. “Thas’ perfect,” he growls, nodding as you bounce on his cock. “You make me feel so damn good. We were made for each other, I fuckin’ swear.”

The tempo is slow at first as you ease into it, trying to balance the fullness within you and the newest setting for your trysts. Gradually, you pick up a bit of speed, and he matches it, balls slapping against you. 

“I love you,” you tell him, adding the promise of, “I’ll always love you.” You brush his hair from his face and kiss him passionately, tongue brushing his. When he pulls away for a breath, he gives your lower lip a little bite. 

“I’ll always love you,” he swears. “Always, always, always.”

You can feel how close he is, and you’re right there with him, so you pull the trigger. “Prove it,” you murmur. “Fuck me so full that your cum drips out of me. Or maybe I’ll keep it inside me and get nice and knocked up for you.”

A string of swear words leaves his lips as he spills into you. “Oh, fuck yes, holy fuckin’ shit. Wanna get you pregnant, y’gonna look s’good havin’ my babies.” He presses his hands into the plush of your thighs. “Cream my cock, baby. Show me who makes you cum.”

Just a few more bounces is all it takes for you to cum again, flopping against his chest as you take big, heaving breaths. 

“Can’t believe I scored on the first date,” Eddie jokes, and you bite his shoulder in retaliation. “Ow!” He rubs the spot dramatically. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get home, yeah?”

“Don’t wanna move,” you mumble, smiling as Eddie chuckles and kisses your scalp. 

“Faster we get home, faster we can fuck on a nice, cozy bed,” he murmurs, trailing a fingernail up and down your arm. “And I can go down on you like a goddamn gentleman.”

The next morning, you’re barely awake and pouring yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen when two rambunctious boys burst in.

“You’re here!” Luke cheers—which sounds more like shouting, this early in the morning. You and Eddie had talked about how it might look having you in the house when the boys woke up. But you figured they wouldn’t ask questions, and if they did, Eddie was ready to provide a long explanation on how something was broken in your car, and he couldn’t work on it while it was dark outside. 

“Hi,” you say, voice still groggy from sleep. You shuffle over to the table and take a seat. A Munson boy takes a seat on each side of you, and you let out a chuckle. “Can I help you?”

“How was it?” Ryan asks.

Shrugging your shoulders, you bring the Garfield coffee mug up to your lips and take a sip. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, come on!” Luke whines. It’s hard not to smile and play it cool, so you just take another sip of your coffee.

“What is all the racket?” Eddie walks into the kitchen, the palm of his hand rubbing at his right eye. He’s wearing blue plaid pajama pants hung low on his hips and nothing else. You know there’s nothing beneath them because you watched him put them on as he rolled out of bed. He had tossed you a pair of his sweatpants to put on since you’d only been wearing a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts. 

“Daddy!” Luke calls, making Eddie wince at his volume. 

“Take it down a few notches, kid.” Eddie ruffles his youngest son’s curls before walking over to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

“How was the date?” Ryan asks, eyes looking back and forth between you and Eddie. 

“Date?” Eddie asks. He walks over and takes a seat at the table before taking a casual sip from his mug. “Did someone go on a date last night?”

“Luke, you had a date?” you tease, poking him in the ribs. He gives an overdramatic roll of his eyes and runs his hands down his face.

“No! You two did!” he says.

“Oh, that’s right,” Eddie says, looking at you now. “I do remember seeing you at a restaurant last night.”

“You guys are the worst,” Ryan sighs, slumping down in his seat. It makes both you and Eddie chuckle. 

“It was a wonderful date,” you tell them, deciding to end their misery. Now that they sense they’re going to get some answers, the boys are very alert and paying attention. It reminds you of how your childhood dog would react when you asked her if she wanted a treat. 

“Was Daddy a gentleman?” Ryan asks. Eddie scoffs, as if insulted by the insinuation that he would be anything but. 

“Of course he was.” 

“What did you eat?” Luke asks. Leave it to him to ask about the food.

“I had steak,” Eddie says. “And…other things.”

Heat comes to your cheeks at the way he eyes you over the brim of his coffee cup. Giving him a light kick under the table knocks the smug smirk off his face, though. 

“Like potatoes,” Eddie says, though you expect it’s more to appease you than anything. 

“Ryan said I look like a potato,” Luke adds. 

Coffee almost shoots out of your nose, and you have to quickly cover your mouth so you don’t spray the table with joe and creamer. This was life with the Munson men. Unpredictably hilarious and quite honestly the best thing you’ve ever had in your life. 

“You don’t look like a potato,” Eddie responds.

“He did as a baby!” Ryan rebuts. 

Eddie rubs his thumb and index finger over his eyebrows as he lets out a sigh. “It’s too early for this,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Are you going out again?” Ryan asks, and you’re thankful for the subject turning back on track. 

“I don’t know,” you muse, tapping your fingernails against the porcelain mug. Both Ryan and Luke frown at your response. “I haven’t been asked yet.”

“Daddy, ask her!” Luke chides. 

“Pretty sure I did ask,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow at you. You know what he’s referring to, but panting out “fuck, when can we do this again?” while you’ve got his dick down your throat doesn’t count. 

“Did you? When?” You smirk at him, backing him into a corner. Now he has no choice but to ask you properly. Eddie’s eyes narrow at you, and you can practically hear him saying you’ll pay for this later. 

“Fine,” he grunts. He takes another sip of coffee before setting the mug down and clearing his throat. “My darling, would you like to go out with me again?”

It feels so infinitesimal to be asking for a second date. This is something teenagers do in high school, not adults with someone whose body you’ve already memorized or when you’ve already declared you’ll love them forever. But it makes the boys happy to hear and he does want to take you out again. 

“I would be honored.”

Your reply still causes Eddie to break out in a beaming smile and reach across the table for your hand. Happily, you lace your fingers with his and don’t even notice the two boys watching with glee. 

“Can we come?” Luke asks.

“Luke,” Ryan groans, “that’s not a date, then.”

“Did you kiss?” Luke asks, ignoring his older brother. Suddenly, Ryan is leaning on the table, eager to hear the answer as well. You see the heat you feel in your face reflected in the pink of Eddie’s cheeks.

“Boys—” Eddie starts before being interrupted by both of them whining.

“Daaaaad!”

“Come on!”

Trying to stifle your giggle, you give Eddie a nod to let him know it’s okay with you if he tells them. Receiving your signal, Eddie nods his own head in reply and shifts in his seat.

“Yes, we kissed.”

Both boys cheer; Ryan throwing his arms in the air and Luke dancing in his seat. You laugh in amusement as you watch them. The fact that they’re almost as happy as you are about you and Eddie being together warms your heart in a way that’s new. It feels as if a new compartment of your heart has been unlocked and all of this love is flooding into it. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, trying to calm the boys back down—even if he’s still grinning himself. “We’re all going to the Harrington’s today, so after breakfast I want you both to get dressed.”

“Uncle Steve’s?” Luke asks. “Why?”

“For a play date.” Eddie shrugs and rises from his seat. “More coffee?”

“Yes, please,” you tell him. He picks up your mug and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Neither boy misses the act of affection, and it feels like a surge of adrenaline spikes your blood. You’ve always been so careful not to let the boys know what’s going on between you—ever since that very first night. But now, getting to be so open about it, knowing they’re going to start seeing you as their dad’s girlfriend instead of their babysitter…it’s a lot. It’s not bad, but it’s a bit overwhelming. 

“Yeah,” you say, shifting in your seat under their gazes. “You can play with Theo and Natalie for a while.”

It doesn’t escape your notice how Ryan flushes at the mention of Natalie’s name. You force yourself to bite back your smile but make a mental note to bring it up to Eddie later.

“Alright, Munson’s,” Eddie says as he places your coffee mug back down in front of you. “What do we want for breakfast?”

“Pancakes!” Luke says.

“Daddy burns those,” Ryan reminds him. 

“Good thing I’m here,” you say, standing up from your seat. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that,” Eddie says, ghosting a hand against your waist. 

“I want to,” you tell him. “Sit.”

“No, let me help you at least.”

“Okay,” you agree. “Can you help me get everything I need together?”

“Course I can.”

Ryan nudges Luke across the table. The younger brother raises his eyebrows in question. Ryan nods his head in the direction of you and Eddie. Luke turns his head to see the two of you moving in tandem to get things out of the cabinets that you’ll need. You share passing words, gently touching or brushing up against one another as you work. It’s so domestic and comfortable for the two of you. But to Ryan and Luke, they’ve never seen something so peaceful. An activity as simple as making pancakes was a potentially explosive event in their lives up until now. It’s the first time both Ryan and Luke are realizing this is how it’s supposed to be. It’s meant to be, “can you pass me the flour?” instead of, “Jesus Christ, where did you put the goddamn pan?” like they’re used to.

The boys stay silent, just watching you and their dad help one another and him make you giggle. It’s possibly the warmest moment they’ve ever felt in this house. Ryan has the sudden urge to hug both of you, but he doesn’t want to interrupt the moment and have it stop. Luke watches in awe at the easy smiles you and Eddie give one another, never shooting the other a glare when they aren’t looking. It’s happy and it’s soft and it’s warm and tingly in a way he didn’t know existed. He’s never been so happy to have to wait for food to be made. 

“Luke,” Ryan whispers, never taking his eyes off of you two.

“What?” Luke’s gaze never falters either. 

“Daddy’s so happy.”

Luke nods enthusiastically. “And it’s all because of our super secret plan.”

Eddie rings the Harrington’s doorbell not once, not twice, but five times. 

“Will you stop that?” you snap, but a smile dances on your lips. “You’re like a child.”

Eddie doesn’t have the chance to retort before Steve swings open the door. “Munson and Munsonitos! And, uh,” he stammers when he gets to you, “Lady Munson?” he tries, nervous to see your reaction. 

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist. “Lady Munson, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.”

The four of you pile into the living room, and Steve encourages the boys to head into the family room where Natalie, Theo, and Danny are playing. “Amelia’s napping, but she’ll be awake and demanding Uncle Eddie cuddles soon,” he promises, laughing when Eddie huffs impatiently. 

Steve walks over to the old record player a little too nonchalantly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “Let’s set a little mood music, shall we?”

Your boyfriend catches on before you do. “Nope, Harrington, no way. Absolutely n—”

Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh

Whoa oh oh oh oh oh

Uptown girl

She’s been livin’ in her uptown world

“I hate you,” Eddie grumbles, but his eyes give away his true feelings. 

Steve doesn’t buy it, either. “Look at that shit-eating grin,” he teases. “You can’t even listen to this song without making eyes at her.”

“Harrington, I will throw all your hairspray in the dumpster if you don’t shut up.”

You’re spared from breaking up their ridiculous fight when Nancy comes in the room, twisting the cover onto a bottle. She waves you over, and you dutifully follow, not wanting to witness whatever nonsense the two men were about to engage in. 

When Steve realizes that there are no women around, he leans in and whispers to Eddie, “I told you, didn’t I? Came to your work and said you should be fucking the babysitter.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest and shakes his head. “Overachiever that you are, you went for the whole relationship.” 

“Overachiever, huh?” Eddie muses. “Never heard that one before.”

“I figured. She probably only says you’re not so tough, just because you’re in love with an—”

“HARRINGTON, I SWEAR TO GOD.”

You and Nancy can vaguely hear the end of Eddie shouting something at Steve, but you’re both in the playroom now and the kids drown them out. Ryan and Natalie are using an array of crayons and markers to create masterpieces that are surely destined to hang on the refrigerators of their respective houses. Luke, Danny, and Theo are playing with Legos and Hot Wheels. The three young boys try to make obstacles for the toy cars to overcome out of the small plastic blocks. 

“I can’t lie,” Nancy says as the two of you take a seat on the couch at the far end of the room. “Steve and I were really impressed by the way you handled Theo and Luke’s candy bar argument.”

The praise catches you off guard but brings on a smile so large that it hurts your cheeks. 

“Oh, um, thank you! It wasn’t anything major,” you tell her. The music playing in the other room suddenly switches off and Nancy lets out a melodious chuckle. 

“I told Steve not to play Billy Joel,” Nancy says with a shake of her head, “not unless he wanted Eddie to kick his…” she trails off as she looks at the kids, “…butt.”

You’re not sure what to say in reply to that. Nancy knows the friendship between the two men far better than you do, having over a decade more of experience with them. Anything you could think to add would be so generic or minuscule next to any of her anecdotes about them that it would be obvious you’re just trying to fill the silence that is becoming more awkward by the moment. But you need to say something. 

“So,” you start, Nancy’s full attention coming back to you at the sound of your voice. “You saw the Innocent Man tour? How was that?”

“Oh, wow.” Nancy blows out a breath and looks down at the floor as if she’s trying to conjure up the memories. “It was forever ago…but from what I remember, it was amazing. He just kept singing and singing.”

Just imagining that brings a smile to your face. 

“Sometimes, I like to just focus on the piano keys and drown out everything else. Helps me clear my head,” you explain. 

Nancy nods along. “I find myself doing that when I’m driving. If I ever play it at home, the voices of four children drown it out and it’s a little harder to clear my head.”

“You really are a great mom, though,” you tell her. “I can see how much your kids adore you.” 

“Thank you,” Nancy says, a bit of emotion snaking its way into her voice. “And having a partner like Steve is the best.”

As if the sound of his name being spoken somewhere in the house summons him, a loud commotion comes from the room you’d left the two men in.

“Munson, let go of my nipple!”

“Not until you apologize!”

You and Nancy share an amused glance before shrugging at one another. Ryan even hears the ruckus and looks in that direction. When he sees that neither you nor his aunt are reacting, he goes back to his drawing. 

“Well, most of the time he’s the best,” Nancy says. 

The clock is ticking until Eddie and Steve come back in the room, but there’s something you feel the need to get off your chest while it’s just you two women there. 

“I have to be honest with you, Nancy,” you start. “I was so intimidated by you. Like, almost scared of you.”

“Of me?” Nancy asks, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” you say with a huff of laughter. “I mean, just meeting you at Ryan’s birthday I could tell how sophisticated and intelligent you are. And then when Eddie talks about you — because as I’m sure you know, he loves talking about his friends — I heard how well accomplished you are and all that you’ve achieved and while being a mother of four. It’s beyond impressive.”

“That’s really sweet, actually.” Nancy gives you a shy smile and a touch of pink coats her sharp cheekbones. “But I promise, I’m a nice person. There’s no need to be afraid of me.”

For the rest of what you have to say, you find it harder to look Nancy in the eye as you speak. Your hands fiddle with a loose thread on your jeans as you cautiously glance back and forth from your thigh to the woman sitting next to you. 

“Plus,” you say before you can lose your nerve. “I know how I look from an outsider’s perspective.” You risk a glance over at the kids, and even though they’re busy playing, you still lower your voice. “Young babysitter starts working for a family and then the parents are separating and I…ya know. With an older man. I know what people are going to assume when they look at me. And I don’t care, I really don’t, because I love him. And he loves me. But I care what the people in Eddie’s life think. What his family and friends think. Of me.”

Nancy lets out a sigh and there’s a sympathetic look in her eye as she nods her head. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some of those thoughts when I first found out about you two,” she confesses. “Not long, but longer than I’d like to admit. But you know what I said to Steve once we got home? That if you’re the light that lit a fire under Eddie’s ass to get him to dump Brittany, then thank God.” 

Questions you want to ask Nancy about Brittany fly into your head in rapid succession. It doesn’t sound like the two of them were close. Does everyone hate her? It’s not hard to believe at all, but you’d love to hear it from a perspective other than Eddie’s. But between not wanting to look like a gossiper and the fact that the guys make their way into the room, you keep your mouth shut. 

Nancy must share this sentiment, and possibly doesn’t want to discuss Brittany much in front of the kids, because she changes the subject as the men settle into seats around you.

“You’re in school, right?” Nancy asks you.

“I am,” you reply. “Finishing up my basic education courses.”

“Do you know what you want to do once you graduate?”

“Not a clue,” you admit with a sigh. “Right now, I’m really enjoying babysitting.”

“The kids love you,” Nancy gushes, leaning forward and resting her hand on your arm. “Not just Luke and Ryan—Natalie and Theo couldn’t stop talking about you, either.”

A sense of pride swells in your chest and you can’t help the bashful smile that grows on your lips.

“They’re all such great kids,” you say. 

“Would you happen to have time to add the four great Harrington kids to your schedule?”

Having Nancy ask you that question makes you feel about fifty pounds lighter. Not only is she acknowledging you as part of Eddie’s life, but also has enough trust and faith in you to watch her children. The acceptance by her, Steve, and the kids makes you more emotional than you would’ve thought. It takes a moment for you to compose yourself to answer without your voice trembling.

“Of course!”

Your shoulders sag in relief and you hear a familiar tune being hummed behind you. Turning in your spot to look behind you, you see Steve perched on the back of the couch, a smug smile on his face. It takes your brain a moment to realize it’s Uptown Girl that he’s humming. Letting out an overly dramatic irritated groan, Eddie lunges at Steve, who shrieks and covers his chest.

“Stay away from my nipples, Munson!”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head.

“Would you look at that? There’s two more kids I didn’t account for.”

[showstopper35]

Honey Sun (arranged marriage to Megatron, part two)

Part One

a/n: a whole two people asked for part two! @yrsfch and @sleepisapriviligethatidonthave thanks! This story is giving me back my love of writing.

cw: implied masturbation, but not much else. a whole lot of silence.

-Days melted into weeks, months, years….centuries. The war raged on, and I was reduced to a princess in a castle. He never came back after that night. Suddenly called to the front, people said. Part of me thought it was a way to be rid of me. After all, neither of us had wanted this. Why was I expecting him to come back? No honeymoon for a puppet.

-And now the war was over. News of your death was a blow, but it was an even bigger one hearing that you had returned. Sure, Starscream ruled Cybertron. Shockwave was gone. But now you were on trial. They said they were letting you hold off on all your crimes. You hadn’t mentioned a divorce. Or even me. Not even when they asked me if I thought you were guilty. Not even when I said yes. They said you were going on a ship full of Autobots. They said I was to come with you. Optimus’s orders. Notice how Optimus never married?

-I followed, because I had no choice. Packed up my things and set them in our shared room. I saw that there was only one large berth, because of course. We were married. I was married to one everyone called a monster. -The next few days passed in total silence. No words were spoken between us. You were never there, of course. At night you recharged with your back facing me. My back faced yours. -I was surprised it ached so much. After all, I should be more than used to this by now. But maybe the fact that you were here made it worse. So close, and yet not enough. Sharing a berth again didn’t mean our marriage was fixed. So much for the great intervention of Optimus Prime. You can’t salvage two broken pieces.

-I’d taken to reading near you on the bridge, or in the bar. Sometimes Rodimus tried to talk to me, but my one-word answers put him off. I think he pitied me. Ultra Magnus politely asked me how I was and left it at that. I could imagine you being friends with him. If you even had friends. -I remember once that Rodimus had glared at you, not-so-subtly flicking his eyes over to me. With a heavy sigh, you had asked how I slept. “Fine. You?” “Fine as well.” He gave Rodimus a cold stare. We didn’t speak the rest of the day.

-I should mention here that centuries of being alone has made me rather good at…entertaining myself. I only do this when you’re not here, of course, but I think you can tell. Averted gaze when you come back to our room, finding my face slightly flushed. I can’t tell if you do it too. -We continue this silent dance, waiting for the other to finally crack the canyon between us. I know it’s going to me, eventually. I can’t be alone for centuries more. I start imagining talking with you…being with you. I’m probably going crazy just because of the newer bit of contact. -I start accidentally brushing against you in your sleep. Whispering “Good morning”, only to be met with a gruff hum of acknowledgment. Little glances at you while you read, or talk with Rodimus. Once, I smile at you, and I know that you froze for a second before turning away.

- I want more. -Maybe I do want this.

———————————————————————————-

Part Three

[symbiomancy]

skirt —getō suguru

—summary: Your big brother says your skirt is too short; he knows best, after all.

—cw: f!reader, fem nicknames, brother x sister, slight manhandling, spanking / ao3 ver

—wc: 1,7k

—note: this is probably no jujutsu AU

“Hold it right there.”

You turn towards the voice with your brows raised, as if you’re asking him to challenge you, to keep you from the cool spring air on the other side of the front door. Suguru is leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest. The curves of his biceps have become more prominent lately; him and his stupid private boarding school. The sleeveless shirts he’s started wearing since winter ended have not been kind to you.

“What? You’re making me late.”

He nods at you. “Fingertips.”

You place your hands against your thighs. The hem of your skirt barely reaches your fingertips, but it does reach them. You grace your brother with a grin. “There? Happy?” You don’t bother waiting for an answer and grab your purse and coat, hand already pulling on the door handle to make your escape. “Be back around 10, probably. Bye!”

Almost there. Almost out. The smell of spring invades the house from the small crack between the door and the doorframe. The streetlights are in view with their dim light—

There’s a hand in your peripheral, reaching around you, fingers curled around yours to pull the door closed. The automatic lock triggers with a click. You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. It leaves goosebumps in its wake, sends a shiver down your spine, a flash of heat between your legs. You press your thighs together, shift subtly but he’s pressed against your back. His free arm snakes around your waist, drops to the hem of your skirt to rub the fabric between his fingers. He’s so warm.

“Drop your shoulders,” Suguru says, voice smooth and rich. Another flash of heat, slick pooling in your panties. You swallow tightly, will your voice to work.

“I did.”

“Then you can do it again.” He pulls back and you almost stumble, wanting to follow where his body heat goes.

You turn with a scowl, fist the strap of your small pink purse in your hand, coat draped over one arm. Suguru waves his fingers in a come hither motion. You press your hand against your exposed thigh, fingertips just where the skirt ends.

“Drop your shoulders.”

You muster the heat of a thousand suns into your glare and drop your shoulders. The edge of your skirt brushes against your palm. “I have long hands!”

“Change, or you’re not going.”

“I hate you.” You let your purse and coat drop to the ground, toe off your sneakers and step past Suguru, knocking your shoulder against his. It hurts and you almost lose your balance but he doesn't even acknowledge the hit. Suguru’s hand comes to steady you, large and warm against the thin fabric of your shirt. You brush him off, disappear into the house.

Suguru sighs, curses under his breath, and picks up your coat and purse, hangs them in their usual spots. He places your sneakers in their place, too. He steps back into the kitchen, turns off the stove, and leaves the food in the pot.

When he finally makes his way to the living room, you’ve tucked yourself into the far corner of the small couch, knees pulled to your chest, skirt splayed out around you. He catches a glimpse of your underwear — not even wearing shorts under that skirt, how shameless of you — and averts his eyes, ignoring the burn in his ears. Something in his body stirs.

“Dinner’s on the stove,” he says as he seats himself on the other end of the couch, arm draped along the backrest. He can almost touch you, the tips of his fingers just about grazing the arm looped around your knees.

“Uh-huh.” You don’t look at him, choose to stare at the telenovela playing on the TV instead.

Suguru finds himself not caring about the umpteenth divorce on the TV screen. Looking at you is an infinitely more pleasant way to pass the time; always has been. You were made after him, so of course you’re for him. He can look at you all he wants, no matter if you're asleep, tucked against his side, or changing with your door open just enough that he can see you from the reflection of the hallway mirror, or if he barges into the bathroom when you're showering to grab something, ducking the soapy bath sponge you throw at his head.

He stares at the buckles of your skirt, the one that’s pressing into your side. He can see the harsh indent forming on your skin when you shift yourself further away from him.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

You level him with a glare, a small crease between your brows. “You said change, or I’m not going. I chose not going.”

“Stop moping. You have no idea how horny teenage boys are; if anything, I’m doing you a favor.”

“You’re not even that much older, stop acting so high and mighty.”

“I’m old enough to babysit you.”

You open your mouth to retort, say something that’ll definitely earn you his ire until he has to go back to his dorm when your phone rings. The shrill ringtone blares in the quiet of the house. Nobara’s name stares back at you on the phone screen. You accept the call.

“Where are you!?”

“I can’t come.”

“What? Why?”

“Suguru’s home. He said I’m not going.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the line. “Just… bring him along.”

“No, he’s being a dickhead.”

A hand grasps your ankle and you’re dragged across the couch, onto Suguru’s lap. He’s wrapped one arm around your waist, the other wrenching your phone out of your hand.

“I gave you the option to change; stop being a brat.” He manages to pry your fingers open and pull the phone from them, place it at his own ear. You strike your hand out, nearly missing his when he leans back to hold your phone out of your reach and you scramble onto your knees, placed on either side of his thighs, to grab it. “They’re staying in. Goodbye.”

You press forward, trying to reach his hand.

He could die happy, he thinks, as you press your chest against his face. The pendant on your necklace almost smacks him in the eye, but he’ll take it, if it means you won’t pull away eventually. It would be a good way to go, smothered by his little sister’s tits. The phone almost slips from between his fingers as he entertains the idea — because they’re soft, he knows they’re soft, he’s felt them between his fingers when you’ve crawled into his bed in the middle of the night because you couldn’t sleep — but you manage to grab it, sink onto his lap, just next to his half-hard cock, thumbing through your contacts with a frown.

“Dickhead,” you mumble, letting your body tip to the side until gravity drags you down onto your side, one leg still hooked over his lap.

He can’t let you insult him like that, now can he?

You almost hiss at him when he grabs your phone from your hand again and tosses it to the side, hands on your waist to pull you towards him. Your skirt rides up, exposing your panties, pink with pretty frills. Suguru traces the direction of the frills with his fingers over the curve of your ass to the inside of your thigh. Your pussy throbs dully. He’s so close, he’s so close, your heart is racing in your chest, mind hazy because he’s so close, he could just—

He brings a hand down onto your exposed asscheek. A half-choked squeal escapes your lips, drives the air from your lungs. It stings.

“What have I said about swearing, huh?”

You open your mouth to retort when his hand comes down on the tender flesh again. It stings, sends a jolt of pain up your spine, and warmth pooling between your legs, sticking to your underwear. But his hand doesn’t leave, only massages the large imprint it’s left behind.

“So?” He grabs a handful of your cheek, squeezes it. You take a breath in, release it slowly. Your face burns.

“P-Pretty girls don’t swear.” 

His hand releases your flesh and you have half a mind to whine at the loss of contact when it comes down on your cheek again. The sting of it jolts everywhere. The world swims, you press your thighs together, flex the muscles.

“And you’re the prettiest girl there is. So?”

“No swearing.”

“Good girl.”

Suguru’s fingertips drag over the sore flesh, dip between your legs, over your clothed pussy, slick seeping through the thin fabric. Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses a finger down, prodding at your entrance. There’s heat alight under your skin, rolling into your extremities, between your legs.

He’s so close, so close, he could just brush the fabric aside and take you right there on the couch, bully your pussy with his big cock (it has to be big, you've felt it against your ass when you've climbed into his bed) until you can't take it anymore (but it's fine, you have other holes he can use) because he’s your big brother and he loves you, right? Your parents won't be home before morning, anyway, he could drag it out as long as he wants to. You wiggle, brace your hands against the couch armrest to give yourself leverage to push against his fingers. He just needs to nudge the ruined fabric aside and take the plunge —

Suguru pulls his hand away, pulls your skirt down to cover your ass. There’s a lump in your throat as you shimmy away from him to sit onto your heels. You wince at the sting in your backside.

“You’re mean.” You sniffle, wipe at your misty eyes with the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He grasps your chin, pulls you in and places a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He lingers for a moment, breath fanning your lower lip. Then, he reaches for the throw blanket draped over the couch backrest and places it onto your shoulders. He tucks the ends once you’re sufficiently swaddled. You shimmy until you can lay on your side, head resting on his lap.

The telenovela continues its fifty-something episode divorce arc.

“You want dinner?”

“Later.”

“Okay.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, curls another around his finger and focuses on the TV.

a/n: ahhh I feel rusty

dividers from @/cafekitsune

[baby-yongbok]

I'm Yours

Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst then Smut mixed with angst. Dirty Drama.

Summary: Even when you think you're done with him Changbin knows just what to say to make you melt for him.

Warnings: Cheating , Arguing/Yelling, Fingering, Changbin is kinda - low key gaslighting her (might be highkey). I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 2,407

✨Masterlist✨

“Don’t.” You push past Changbin, grabbing your shirt from the floor and tugging it on quickly. You can’t even look at him, how could he do this?

“Would you just let me explain?” He runs his hands through his hair as he buttons his shirt behind you. “I was going to tell her I just-”

“You just what? You told me last week, no, you promised me that you’d tell her about us. What happened to that? What happened to the I love you, baby, I’m going to tell my wife everything. I already made the date, I already made the fucking plans. What happened, Changbin?” Your throat burned from your yelling and you could feel the pinch in the back of your eyes but you won’t cry. You can’t do that right now, he doesn’t deserve that.

“It’s not that fucking easy, It’s complicated, everything is complicated. What am I supposed to tell the kids? Mommy and daddy are getting a divorce cause I started fucking your nanny? I have a family ya know, this isn’t black and fucking white.” You scoff, an incredulous laugh slipping from your lips as you step closer to your lover. He stares back at you, wide eyed with a red angry blush climbing up the milky skin of his neck and chest. You want to laugh this off, you want to tell him that you understand and that you just want him, any of him, all of him. But he doesn’t deserve that either.

“Oh, do I know that you have a family? Do I know? Let’s see Mr. Seo, am I aware that you have a six year old daughter who loves tea parties and hot wheels? Hmm, do I know that?”

“Don’t do that.” He looks away, bringing his hand up and rubbing his face. It’s a habit that he does when he’s stressed, you can’t blame him, this is fucking stressful.

“What about your four year old son who loves coloring and watching Bluey, do I know about that?” You take a step closer to him, leaving little to no room between you two. The heat radiating off of the both of you creates a deliciously toxic energy that makes you sick to your stomach. 

“Or what about your fucking wife.” You hiss, yelling in his face, he squeezes his eyes shut as he continues to avert eye contact. You push his chest with every word but he doesn’t move, of course he doesn’t he’s two times stronger than you. 

“Your wife who doesn’t give a shit about her kids or her husband or anything else that doesn’t solely focus on her. Your wife that is never home so I take care of her kids and they call me mommy. Your wife that doesn’t give you any attention so you started fucking me. I know a whole lot about your fucked up little family.” He grabs your hand, turning to face you and you swear that the look in his eyes could kill you.

“Stop this, now.” His voice is barely above a whisper, it’s almost gentle which is the complete opposite of the grip that he has on your wrist as he holds it against his chest. “I didn’t think that we’d take it this far, this was never the plan. Falling in love with you was not what I planned.”

“So I was just supposed to be a quick fuck? You didn’t mean to fall in love with me or fuck me in you and your wife’s bed before I pick up your kids. You didn’t mean to buy me jewelry or spend nights here begging me to have your babies, begging me to marry you when you divorce her. Fuck you, get the fuck off of me.”

“Will you let me fucking explain?” He growls at you and you suck your teeth.

“The hell I am.” You attempt to pull away from him but his grip only tightens. You pull again, this time more aggressively and when he doesn’t let you go you start to fight him, pushing and pulling and making him stumble as he tries to hold you. He lets go of your wrists and moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, he picks you up and throws you onto your mattress, ignoring your protests as you hit the memory foam.

“You think that I don’t know that she doesn’t give a fuck about me?” His voice bounces off of the white walls of your bedroom as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “She never fucking has, she never fucking will, she’s a gold digger we all know that. I fucked up and got her pregnant, I didn’t want any of this shit. I didn’t want this life. You, you are the first thing that I’ve wanted in years.”

“Bullshit.” You sit up, scooting down to the end of your bed. “Bull - fucking - shit, Changbin.”

You stand from the mattress but Changbin pushes you back down by your shoulders, he kneels down in front of you, getting a good grip on the plush of your thighs and pulling you to the very edge of the bed. You’re ready to protest, ready to scream and fight and throw a fit but the next sentence that comes out of his mouth makes you freeze. “ I told them to call you mommy.” 

He stares up at you, vulnerable eyes searching yours, you ball your hands into fists against the comforter. Is he fucking serious? “I didn’t tell my wife because she didn’t fucking show up for our date night. She had a work meeting which is code for fucking the new executive. I was going to tell her, I have -” He stops himself mid sentence, looking over towards his work bag and quickly moving towards it. He searches through it for less than a second before pulling out a folder and moving back in front of you.

“I have the fucking divorce papers, I signed them. I had everything.” You grab the folder from him, shaking your head as you read through them, they’re real, he isn’t lying but what good is that if you’re still stuck being the side chick? No good at all.

“Is this supposed to change my mind? Am I supposed to feel bad that your dead beat wife stood you up? I don’t give a fuck about her but clearly you still do.”

“That’s not fair -”

“Oh it’s not? It’s not fair?” You cross your arms, meeting his eyes with a sarcastic gaze. He speaks over you, shaking his head and gripping your bed frame as he grows more and more frustrated by the situation.

“That’s not fucking fair, she’s the mother of my kids of course I give a shit about her. Yeah she’s a bitch, yeah she doesn’t love me but -”

“But you love her?” Your sarcastic gaze morphs into one of anger, pure feminine rage and you’re ready to unleash it if he says the wrong thing. “Do you fucking love her, Changbin?”

“It’s not that simple.” You throw the folder that he handed you behind you, the papers confetti around the two of you, covering the mattress and floor next to you.

“Go home. Be with the woman you love, be with your kids, your family.” You lean forward, yelling in his face and leaving no room for air, you hate him you hate him so much for doing this to you. For turning you into the woman who loves a married man, even before you slept with him you knew that you loved him. It was the lingering stares and soft touches. It was the early morning conversations and the hot coffee waiting for you as soon as you walked through the door. It was the way that he’d take pictures of you and his kids like you were their mother, like you were a family. “The family that you fuck over every time you fuck me. Get out, leave. 

“I'm in love with you.” He grabs your waist, squeezing and holding you like you’d fly away if he didn’t. The sound of your primal yelling is still ringing in his ears but he ignores it, nothing else matters, all that he wants is for you to hear him. All that he wants is for you to understand that his wife may have a place in his heart but you own it. You and his kids are all that he really loves, all that he really wants. “What do I need to do to get you to see that? What do you want from me?”

His hand trails down to the curve of your hip as his eyes stay on yours. “Do what you promised me you would.” You snap back, shifting in his grip.

“Give me until Friday, that’s all I ask.” His hands run over the bare skin of your thigh, scratching down the sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Give me this last chance, please. I won’t fuck this up, I need you.”

He leans in, pressing his torso between your legs and resting his hands on your knees as he gently parts them. You watch him, your chest rising and falling heavily. You’re angry, you’re livid, you’re in love. “I want you so bad, baby, just give me three days.” His fingers inch their way towards the tender flesh of your inner thigh and you sit there, watching him.

“You said this before, you said it last week. Why are you doing this to me?” Your anger has abandoned you, it left you to face this desperate sadness all by your lonesome. Your voice is weaker than you’d like and the familiar pinch of tears fighting to escape visits you again and you’re not sure that you have it in you to fight them this time. “You keep stringing me along, Changbin, you keep -”

“Bunny, I’m begging you, just three days.” His pointer and middle finger sneak over to caress your folds over the gusset of your damp underwear and you shiver at the sensation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I’m doing this to you. We knew this would be messy.”

He hooks his fingers into the wet fabric, moving it to the side and pressing against your clit softly. You try to keep your eyelids from fluttering shut but it’s no use, they’re closed before you can even think to do otherwise. “This isn’t fair.” You gasp, as he rubs tight circles against the bud, dragging whine from you that you don’t believe he has the privilege to hear. 

“You’re right.” His fingers move down, collecting your dripping slick and spreading it over your needy cunt. You open your mouth to snap back at him but his fingers are sinking into you before you can even get a breath out. “This isn’t fair, you’re right.”

His words are whispers as he watches you, he can feel himself relax as you arch your back into the air and squeeze your eyes shut because of him. For him. “Y-you take so much of me when you leave here.” You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your speech. Changbin’s fingers pick up speed as you speak.

“What do I take from you, baby?” 

“Everything, you t-take so much of my power, my love, my pride.” A moan interrupts your sentence, and you let your head drop back as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There are so - so many parts of me scattered around your house. There are bits and pieces - pieces of you. So many pieces of you in this room. My pillows smell like you, your coffee mug, your toothbrush, I have it all but - but there’s no you.”  You close your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek.

 "I want to take it all back," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. His thumb finds your clit as you lift your head to look at him and you can’t help but to cry out as you buck your hips into his hand. 

“You don’t mean that.” He whispers back as his spare hand reaches up to wipe the stray tear rolling down your cheek. “ Tell me that, tell me that you don’t mean that.” 

You grind your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers hungrily, desperately. “Look at me.” His voice snaps you out of your fucked out hunger and you meet his gaze, more tears falling from your eyes and he moves his hand beside you to pick up one of the papers you threw. He lifts it to your tear stained cheek and wipes it dry with the paper, his fingers slow down as his eyes scan your face. He loves you, he really is in love with you. If you two had met in a different life or maybe just at an earlier time then you’d be the mother of his kids and he wouldn’t be the CEO of a company he doesn’t give a fuck about, he wouldn’t have to keep his happiness a secret. Why couldn’t that have been the way that things went? 

“I don’t regret any of this. I don’t regret you.” His fingers speed up again and you cry out, your trembling frame is beautiful to him. “You don’t regret me.”

“I don’t.” You moan, your hands tangle in your hair as you pant and whine. “I wish I did.”

“You have so much of me too, you own me. I’m yours. Fuck her, I need you. Anything that you want is yours.” You feel the knot tightening in your stomach and your eyes roll back at the feeling. 

“Say it again, s-say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, baby.” Changbin’s eyes rake over your body as you near your high, your rosy skin is beautiful in the dimly lit room. “I’m yours.”

“Bin, oh my fucking god.” Your legs shake against the bed frame as your orgasm climbs up your spine. He groans, as he cups your cheek and guides your lips to his. He kisses you hungrily, passionately. Desperately. Before you can warn him you break the kiss, your body is falling into his as your legs clamp down around his wrist and he curls his fingers inside of you as you come down from your high. You’re panting against his shoulder as he peppers light kisses against your neck.

“I’m yours, I promise.”

(Unedited)